After the Years

There remains a place where every season continues as though time accepted no bargain, where memory walks beside the living and every passing year gathers another page into the same enduring story. I carried your name through countless days until it became part of every hope I refused to surrender.

Distance held little power, since affection keeps its own rhythm, counting neither sunrise nor evening, holding fast through every turning month. Love grows stranger across the years, changing gently while keeping the same faithful heart, becoming less a promise than a lifelong companion carried through every joy and every sorrow.

I searched old letters, forgotten songs, and silent rooms, hoping some small trace might return the first bright wonder of your smile. Instead, I found something gentler, a devotion seasoned by time, still warm beneath every remembered word.

Should tomorrow bring another season, my heart would travel the same path again, choosing your name before every other, believing such affection remains life's finest gift.