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Sound of light

How does the sound of light appear, If silence suddenly could hear? Perhaps like gold on ocean waves, Or dawn inside forgotten caves. Maybe it sings through autumn trees, A silver hymn upon the breeze. A fragile echo, soft and bright, The hidden pulse beneath all light. I heard it once in someone’s laugh, A warmth that split my soul in half. A quiet spark, a tender fire, Awakening each lost desire. And since that day I understand, Not every song is made by hand. Some melodies are born above… The sound of light, the voice of love.
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Love doesn’t vanish - POEM

Love doesn’t vanish

Love doesn’t vanish.
It lingers—
in quiet glances no longer shared,
in songs we used to hum
when silence still felt full.

It lives
in the echo of footsteps
that once ran toward each other,
in the memory of warmth
held between two trembling hands.

It does not dissolve like smoke.
It stays like the scent of a flower
pressed into a book
long after the pages have yellowed.

Even when hearts break,
even when paths diverge,
love carves its name
into the corners of the soul—
softly,
unforgettably.

And though time may bury it in dust,
it breathes,
it waits,
it reminds.

Because love doesn’t vanish—
it simply changes the way it’s seen.




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