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Personal Note:

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Poem

In realms where sound surrenders to the gaze,
And silence speaks in iridescent haze,
I've learned a tongue no mortal throat can claim,
A lexicon of light, a whispered flame.
No spoken word, no cadence, nor a sigh,
Can match the depths where knowing secrets lie.
Your irises, twin pools of shadowed glass,
Reflect a universe where moments pass.
I've traced the constellations in their gleam,
The nebulae of joy, the sorrow's stream.
The quicksilver of laughter, bright and bold,
The muted storms of stories yet untold.
I've seen the dawn of hope, a fragile spark,
And watched the twilight gather in the dark.
The subtle shift, the flicker, and the fall,
A symphony of feelings, one and all.
The anxious flutter, like a trapped bird's wing,
The steady calm that solace seems to bring.
The sudden flash of anger, sharp and keen,
The quiet pools of where your dreams convene.
I've learned to read the tremors of your soul,
The hidden currents that beyond control,
Define the landscapes of your inner space,
A silent language, etched upon your face.
No need for phrases, crafted and refined,
When every glance reveals a deeper kind
Of truth that words can never truly hold,
A narrative in stories yet unfold.
For in the depths where vision takes its flight,
I've found a language, pure and burning bright.
And in the stillness, where the shadows play,
I've been listening to your eyes, all day.

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