By Reshu Yadav
I was wilting in a winter that wouldn’t end,
Dreams lay quiet, folded in corners of silence.
Hope felt like a language I forgot to speak,
Until you arrived—soft as a breeze,
Unexpected as the first blossom on a barren branch.
You didn’t even know,
That your smile stitched color into my grey days,
And your presence whispered,
"Don’t give up yet."
You didn’t touch my life loudly—
You entered like sunlight through half-closed curtains,
Warming places I thought were frozen for good.
I looked at you,
And for the first time in so long,
I wanted to stay.
You were not a storm,
Not a rescue—
You were spring.
And that was enough to begin again.