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Poem

I shall be dreaming of you all night,
like a tree dreams of rain in a desert's embrace.
A whole week,
where every dawn carries the echo of your laughter,
a fragile thread binding my soul to the morning star.
A whole year,
and the seasons will carry your name,
your voice etched in the veins of every leaf,
your absence filling the silence of every snowfall.

I shall certainly come here tomorrow,
just here, to this place,
where the earth holds the weight of our footsteps
and the wind knows the secret of our breaths.
Just at the same hour,
when the sun kneels low, painting the horizon
with the colors of longing and surrender.
And I shall be happy,
remembering today,
as though time has folded itself into a flower,
pressed gently between the pages of my heart.

For even in your absence,
you are the compass of my wandering,
the dream I carry into waking,
the shadow that leans against my solitude.
And I shall wait,
with the patience of a stone kissed by waves,
knowing you are the tide
that will one day return.

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