Love arrives quietly,
a soft light in the dark,
unnoticed at first, yet undeniable—
an ember, then a blaze, unseen but felt.
It unfolds without words,
in gestures,
in shared silences,
and the quiet glance across a room.
*
Love is the brush of fingers,
the meeting of eyes,
a laugh that settles in the bones,
warm and deep, echoing long after.
It mends without needles,
binds without chains—
a silent understanding,
holding fast, even as the days shift
and seasons pass, unseen as the stars.
It is found in the spaces between,
in the pause before words,
the quiet comfort of knowing,
like roots entwined beneath the soil,
stronger than what the world sees.
*
Love is not a promise, but a presence—
a quiet miracle, an enduring union,
woven to last through all the unseen
seasons of a lifetime.
In the quiet hours before dawn,
when the world holds its breath,
love blooms like a wildflower,
unfurling in unexpected places,
its petals kissed by the softest light.
It whispers in stolen glances,
in laughter shared over coffee,
in the warmth of a hand that fits,
as if carved from the same clay.
*
Love is a delicate tapestry,
woven from threads of trust and vulnerability,
each strand is a testament
to the courage it takes to open,
to risk the fall into another’s soul.
It thrives in the chaos,
in the mundane moments of life,
finding beauty in the ordinary,
transforming simple acts
into sacred rituals of connection.
And when storms rage outside,
love becomes an anchor,
a harbor where hearts can rest,
reminding us of the miracle
that we are never truly alone.
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