The Gaps That Give Life Meaning
When first we met at Hanging Gardens’ shade,
A timid silence between us softly stayed...
We stood and gazed, not knowing where to start,
Till words, like cautious steps, found pace in heart...
I spoke, she heard. She spoke, I gave my ear.
We traded voices, slow, sincere, and clear...
Yet afterward, I weighed each word we'd said,
And felt some thoughts still lingered in my head...
Some words of mine never crossed the tongue,
Some words of hers faded before they were sung...
I wondered if her heart had felt the same,
Those silent gaps, yet restless as a flame...
Those gaps pursued me, clouded every thought,
As though some hidden meaning stayed unsought...
The doubt stayed till we met beneath those trees,
Where once again the gardens held the breeze...
That day I shared the doubts I'd held inside,
She smiled and spoke, with starlight in her eyes:
"Some gaps aren’t meant to close or be made whole,
They’re gifts from fate that tutor heart and soul...
For if each road were smooth and free of bend,
What joy would there be in the journey’s end?
A life stretched flat from first breath to last day,
Would lose its wonder somewhere on the way...”
The years have passed like waters to the sea,
Yet those few words still echo deep in me...
I've come to see that gaps are not life's scars,
But bridges cast between ourselves and stars...
Some yield to toil and patience day by day,
Some through the souls who walk beside our way...
Some yield at last to fate’s mysterious art,
And still some remain forever set apart...
The Hanging Gardens on the hillside rise,
In layered grace beneath the changing skies...
Like our wishes hanging gently in the mind,
Neither fully lost of sight nor wholly defined...
It’s sweet awhile to linger, watch them sway,
And dream upon the promise of a coming day...
Yet dreams find form when feet embrace the ground,
When hope and deed and purpose all are bound...
And life, thank God, provides that field to build.
Perhaps herein lies love’s most precious guild:
Do not lament the gaps that still remain,
They urge us on through wonder, loss, and gain...
If every space were filled, hope could not bloom,
Nor pathways open past the present room...
The gaps we bear are not creation’s mistake,
They are life’s invite to love, to live, to wake...