Souls meet.

I watch the world around me,

see love blooming quietly.

Hands clasped tightly, laughter spilling,

eyes that linger just enough to tell a story already written.

*

I do not reach for it.

I do not need it.

I only see and frame,

the quiet pulse of love that blooms within them,

and accept it lives beyond my name.

*

Not because I don’t want it,

But because it is theirs, not mine.

Some souls are fixed together,

and I will not interfere;

I only witness,

and marvel at the way love finds its way.

*

I know my own soul has its rhythm,

its quiet gravity toward persons that

choose me.

*

I cannot keep what was never mine.

Each heart finds its mirror in time.

Still, I have met souls that lingered,

Not forever, but near enough

to alter the color of my mind.

*

They come like constellations in the sky,

some to bind, some to remind,

that even the briefest meeting

can echo across a lifetime.

*

And I have learned,

love need not belong to be real.

It lives in the small talk that keeps the world breathing,

Day to day appointments that keeps us moving,

the smiles exchanged before silence returns….

*

We are all bound by it,

those who hold hands, and those who only watch.

*

The secret is not in having more,

but in knowing when to stand still,

to let what is yours find you

without hurry, without fear.

*

Because somewhere,

your soulmate moves too.

not lost, not late,

just cutting softly through the blue.

*

And when it arrives,

the noise will fade,

and every scattered love you ever knew

will fall into place,

as if every passing heart

had been preparing you

for the one that finally stayed.