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Poem

In the depth of your arms, time lays down its dreams softly,
Under the velvet of the moment, every burden turns into a silent thorn.
Oceans of trials I traverse, when I find solace and purpose,
In the sweet penumbra of your embrace, that caresses each August sunset.
When you enfold me in your world, forgotten are the turmoil and tumult,
Life, with its heavy cart, seems to me a feeble heartbeat, the road leisurely.
And it's a creation of the sacred in the fleeting moment, when you still waves of worry,
Your oasis, a realm of wonders, where I, the bard, weave and uphold the crown of happiness.
From life’s chasm, that ever plays its card of the unexpected,
Your caress overflows like a river that knows not drought.
And that greatness within us, the power to care without bounds,
Turns the fog that clung to the soul into light over solitary journeys.
You have woven a sacred embrace wherein time used to build itself,
An eternal play of colors, undulating, where secretly the flowers of hope germinated from beneath the stone.
Now there is no more fatigue, but only regal delight, in soft applause,
You make me laugh, dance, burst, not into exhaustion, but into a swirl of golden-brown.
In a world of wanderings, you are the one who grants me rest,
When you extend your arms like the wings of an angel over the descending twilight.
In your proximity, I rediscover the forgotten realm where every trouble meets its end,
And I breathe relieved, a soul in feast, with a heart light as a ladybug, unbarred, without limit.

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