Stay,
not as a fleeting ember,
but as the pulse beneath my skin,
a hymn too sacred for sound.
Your presence-
not heavy, not light,
but the weight of a sunbeam resting
on the curve of an ancient stone.
You are not the air I breathe,
but the pause between breaths,
the quiet that lets me hear
the symphony of existence.
When you look at me,
the world tilts slightly,
as if yielding to your gravity,
and I-
a pilgrim of your soul's vast expanse,
bow to the altar of your being.
Stay,
not as a lover bound by time,
but as the infinite,
as the marrow of what makes me whole.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem