5-** Water

The lamplight falls across the polished wood,
where two hands rest on either side of empty space.
A stillness settles in the quiet room,
the sound of breath, a gesture of the chin.
We watch the simple dance of light and shadow.
The world outside is muted by the glass,
and we are held within this silent frame,
a perfect stillness before any start.

I feel the pull of all that we have not yet said, The Unwritten Map.
A quiet faith that grows in this new silence.
It is a choice, this beautiful uncertainty,
a silent promise that will never fade.
I feel the purpose in this endless journey,
a gravity I choose to stand within,
a knowledge in my soul that you are home.
My heart is listening for the sound of you.

The days unfold like a series of small, new revelations.
The way your eyes catch light when you are moved.
The gentle rhythm of your footsteps in the hall.
A fleeting sadness I observe behind your laughter.
A book left open to a favorite page,
a melody you hum beneath your breath.
These threads are woven into a design,
creating the tapestry of who we are.

This patient unfolding, this sacred distance, is love's true beginning.
We walk an unhurried road, The Unwritten Map.
I learn the cadence of your quiet moments.
We fill the empty spaces with a gentle kindling,
a patient unfolding, a chosen gravity.
The future is a landscape for our hands to draw.
We are the two rivers, and our separate paths
have brought us to this one, converging shore.