Reminiscing about the old times
when life was so much younger,
when mornings felt like promises
and nights were filled with endless sky.

When time itself seemed to be slower,
as if the world took a breath
and let us linger
in the warmth of our becoming.

Reminiscing about the moment
our eyes looked at each other for the first time,
and the spark of love ignited-
not with noise,
but with the quiet certainty
that everything had changed.

We didn't know then
how memory would soften the edges,
how the days would fade into one another
like waves that never quite say goodbye.

But still I sit,
somewhere between silence and longing,
replaying it all-
the youth,
the spark,
the slow and golden time
when love first spoke without a word.