The Roots of Time
The flighty dawn of youth has passed away,
Yet leaves a mighty oak upon the hill;
Where passion’s fire once held its fevered sway,
A deeper silence holds us closer still.
Through howling gales that tore the winter sky,
Thy hand remained the anchor of my soul;
Let others chase the sparks that fade and die,
We kept our broken fragments truly whole.
I know the secret map within thy breast,
Each scar and joy inscribed upon the bone;
Our love is now a haven found at rest,
A temple built of memory and stone.
Beneath the earth our ancient roots entwine,
Defying time and every season’s turn;
No fleeting spark, but holy and divine,
A steady flame that shall forever burn.
May these verses stand as a testament to endurance, proving that love, like the oldest trees, grows more majestic not by escaping the storm, but by weathering it together, finding in its own history the strength to last forever.
