Where the Quiet Lives

Where the Quiet Lives

I have known the storms, the fleeting flame,

The hurried names, the passing names.

But then you came—not loud, not grand—

Just quietly, and took my hand.

Not with fireworks, nor thundered vow,

But with the stillness I never knew how

To hold, or trust, or even see—

Until you made a home in me.

You didn’t chase—you waited there,

In moments small, in softened air.

In coffee sips, in folded clothes,

In every way love truly shows.

You learned my silences by heart,

The sacred seams that fall apart.

You traced the places no one goes,

And planted gentleness in rows.

I never asked, “Will this be long?”

Because each day with you felt strong—

Not in drama, not in test—

But in the way my soul could rest.

You made the ordinary shine,

The daily touch, the steady spine.

The shared look when the world was loud,

The quiet where we stayed unbowed.

I once thought love must burn to last,

But now I know—it's not the past

That makes us weep, but what remains—

The love that grows in sun and rains.

And should the stars all dim above,

I will not fear—I’ve known true love.

Not in fairytales or grand parade,

But in the life we softly made.

You are my always, not my blur,

My sentence full, my final word.

And if I go before you do,

Know this: my heart is staying too.