NurseSheGirl

July 1, 2026

I never asked for quiet praise,
or whispered wonder wrapped in gaze.
Yet somehow, every path I choose
Feels lined with things he dares not lose.

He watches where my footsteps land,
As though they leave a gentler brand.
The world I cross seems somehow new,
As if my passing pulled it through.

The floorboards know before I do
The careful rhythm I walk to.
He smiles at traces left behind,
With all the patience love can find.

I laugh, pretending not to see
The small devotions left for me.
The way he lingers, soft and still,
As though restraint requires will.

He never asks to steal the sky
Or place the stars within my eye.
He finds his universe instead
Where quiet, humble paths are led.

It’s not the journey that I own,
Nor jeweled crowns or polished stone.
It’s something simpler, sweet and true.
The grace he says my footsteps knew.

So I keep walking, unafraid,
While silent vows are gently made.
And every road we wander through
Feels somehow born again, anew.

If love has altars hidden deep,
Perhaps they’re found where echoes sleep.
For I have learned that hearts can start
By kneeling first in quiet heart.