Somewhere beyond the noise of the waking world,
Where the water lies still enough to hold the sky,
A quiet promise of two souls gently unfurled,
Like something eternal the stars cannot deny.
For love, they say, was never made to fade with time,
Nor blend beneath the turning of restless years.
It moves instead in silence, ancient and divine,
A hidden truth the quiet heart still holds dear.
So do the swans upon the silver water glide,
Not seeking witness, nor praise of the human sight,
But knowing only that side-by-side they bide,
Two living souls made gentle in the hush of light.
And when I think of love, it is not storms I see,
Though thunder rolls so grandly through poet’s art.
For tempests fade upon the ever-shifting sea,
And leave no lasting harbour for the heart.
Nor is it a candle trembling in the dark,
Whose fragile flame bends low before wandering air.
For such small fires may glow and leave a fleeting mark,
Yet fade to ash as though they had never been there.
Nor some wild ride that climbs with breathless, laughing speed,
Then falls again as quickly toward the ground below.
Such thrills may stir the restless heart indeed,
Yet fade as swiftly as the winds that blow.
But love, I think, is something hushed and slow,
A deeper current moving far beneath the years,
Where two quiet spirits learn at last to grow
Toward one calm truth untouched by mortal fears.
Like swans that find each other on a lonely lake,
And feel within that meeting something old as dawn,
A bond no passing season ever dares to break,
A vow that lingers softly even when all else is gone.
So let the world praise the flames that rise and move,
Then fade like echoes drifting slowly from the air.
I ask for only this: the faithful peace of love,
Like swans that choose one soul and find their forever there.
Leave a Reply