The Day When I First Met You Poem by Mario, Lucien, Rene Odekerken

The day when I first met you was not carved in gold,
nor painted with the brilliant strokes of an artist's hand.
It was simple, quiet, as if the universe had whispered your name
softly into the folds of time,
and I happened to hear it.

There was no orchestra swelling in the background,
no sudden hush of the world to mark the occasion,
only the steady rhythm of hearts beating,
one unfamiliar, one unknowingly searching.

Your face was just another face, until it wasn't.
Your voice, another thread woven into the day,
until it pulled at something hidden within me--
a string tied to places I didn't know existed.

I don't remember the words we spoke,
not exactly.
I remember how they felt,
like footsteps on fresh snow,
soft, tentative, leaving prints that refused to fade.

The light did not shift dramatically,
but somehow, everything seemed clearer.
As if seeing you
untangled the knots in the corners of my vision,
turning ordinary moments into quiet revelations.

There was no grand realization,
no epiphany struck like lightning.
It was gentle, the way morning slips in
without needing to be announced,
the way warmth spreads without asking for permission.

Looking back, I think
the day I met you was the beginning of a story
I didn't know I was writing.
A sentence started with a simple glance,
punctuated by a smile,
unfolding slowly, patiently,
across the pages of days and years.

And now, when I turn to the chapter in my mind,
there are no fireworks,
no bold, underlined moments
screaming to be noticed--
just the soft, steady presence of you
walking into my life
as if you had always belonged there.