The Touch Beyond the Frame

For months I stayed in that still place, Where silence met me face to face. Outdoors, the world would ease my mind, But coming home, what would I find? No voices called, no footsteps near— Just you, still waiting, always here. And as I stood in quiet grace, I reached to touch your printed face. Your eyes, so calm, could soothe my soul, Your gaze, it made the broken whole. A smile that spoke without a sound, And made my sorrows less profound. When grief would press upon my chest, I’d come to you to find my rest. No words were said, no grand demand— Just peace within your outstretched hand. Thank you, Lady, full of light, Who met my darkness with her sight. Though framed in stillness, paper-thin, You stirred a gentleness within. Through you, my path was slowly cleared, My restless thoughts no longer feared. And though unseen, your hand was true— A quiet guide that pulled me through.