Emenaha Godwin Holiday Poet Ballad

The Language Of You

In the quiet of the morning light,
?before the world begins to stir,
?I find your name upon my lips —
?a soft and sacred blur.
?
?Your laughter is a melody
?that echoes through my days,
?a song I never knew I needed,
?set my heart ablaze.
?
?I've searched the maps of distant lands,
?traced rivers to the sea,
?yet every road I've ever walked
?has led me back to thee.
?
?Your eyes hold all the seasons —
?the storm, the gold, the bloom,
?a universe of feeling
?housed in one quiet room.
?
?I love the way you carry silence,
?the way you fill a space,
?how every ordinary moment
?wears an extraordinary grace.
?
?If words were made of starlight,
?I'd write your name in skies,
?so every soul who wandered lost
?could navigate by your eyes.
?
?Time, they say, devours all things —
?the great, the bold, the true —
?but I believe, against all odds,
?it only deepens you.
?
?So let me love you slowly,
?through every turning year,
?not just in breathless, burning moments,
?but in the long and patient here.

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