THE SILENT KISS
A baby is born—
wrapped in soft white,
breathing gently,
half-asleep,
a trace of a cry still lingering in the air.
The sister carries this tiny bundle
from the stillness of the ward
to the waiting arms of the mother.
The father stands close,
eyes fixed,
heart rushing ahead of time,
as if he too is being born again.
The mother,
her body weary from the long storm of pain,
rests, breathes,
waits—
and then at last,
the weight of the child settles in her arms.
She studies the face,
the skin, the fragile fingers,
searching for traces of God
in every curve and color.
In that moment,
time halts.
Tears fall freely—
of gratitude, of surrender,
of love that has no language.
No sound, no word is needed.
The world begins anew
with a silent kiss.
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