When Words Were Waiting - A Whispered Reunion, A Quiet Forever

 With heartfelt pleasure — here is the English translation and lyrical adaptation of the second Hindi poem — the one that begins when words are still waiting, eyes speak first, and then gradually, in union and silence, love breathes quietly forward.

This poem moves through the awakening of love after a long separation — through silent gazes, trembling anticipation, and a deep, wordless reunion — flowing into a gentle, soulful space where love no longer speaks… it simply is.

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I. The First Silence

Lifetimes lay between us
when we last parted —
time had turned to dust
on pages we never read.

And now,
you’re here again.

So close.
So real.
And yet —
my tongue is still.

Perhaps
it waits
for my eyes to finish
what they began
decades ago.

For now —
my gaze,
hungry and still,
traces your face
like forgotten verses
on a beloved page.

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II. The Eyes That Remember

I do not blink.
For I must count —
each moment lost,
each second torn.

Let me drink
your presence
till the drought
of years
is quenched.

Only then
may my voice
rise again.

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III. When the Silence Opens

And then…
a breath breaks,
a syllable stirs.

Our voices
hesitant,
tender,
like two birds
meeting after a storm.

You speak.
I answer.
But not to explain —
just to feel
the warmth of sound
from lips we once knew
only in dreams.

We share our ache
without anger.
We forgive
without needing to.

And in the space
between our words,
a deeper truth
takes shape.

---

IV. The Union of Silences

Soon,
the need to speak
begins to fade.

Now,
your quiet
is my language.

My stillness
wraps around yours —
like dusk around
a flame.

We don’t talk
of what we lost.
We only breathe
what we’ve found.

Eyes still meet.
Hands still seek.
But the hunger
is no longer
for the past.

Now,
we touch gently
what simply is.

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V. What Love Becomes

Love —
once loud,
once burning —
now walks barefoot
through the quiet.

No need
for declarations,
for grand gestures.

A sigh,
a shared morning,
the silence after laughter —
these are enough.

This is the love
that does not speak.
This is the love
that becomes
everything.

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Epilogue:

Once,
we waited
for the words to come.

Now,
we sit beside them —
unspoken,
but never unheard.

You and I —
no longer a story told.
Just a truth
felt.

Not in the saying,
but in the being.