The evening gathers slowly Like a story no one told Clouds drift without a hurry Turning crimson into gold The wind forgets its footsteps The lake forgets to move Yet everything is mirrored As if silence knows the truth
Beneath the water’s surface A thousand lives remain unseen Just because I cannot find them Doesn’t mean they’ve never been
So tell me… What is love? Is it waiting like the sunset? Never asking to be known Is it hidden Like the heartbeat of the forest Where no wandering soul has gone? If I’ve already met it Would I even understand? Or does love arrive so quietly It feels exactly like the wind?
The colors leave the heavens One by one they disappear Until only stars are speaking In a language no one hears Perhaps the world keeps answers Not inside the things we see But somewhere in the questions Still unfolding quietly
Maybe love isn’t lightning. Maybe it isn’t destiny. Maybe… It’s the reason the sky changes every evening without asking anyone to notice.
What is love? Is it something I will find? Or something that has been walking beside me all this time… while I was searching everywhere else.