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Saturday, August 15, 2026

 


Written by- Priyanka Jalan


The Light You Left Behind

The river knows the sea

only after it leaves the mountain;

the bird discovers the sky

only after it loses the branch.

And I discovered the measure of my love

only after I learned

how to walk away from you.

Perhaps some truths arrive late—

not because they are less true,

but because the heart

must first become quiet enough to hear them.

So, if my words reach you too late,

let them arrive gently—

like moonlight touching

a window that no longer waits for dawn.

I loved you then.

I love you still.

And perhaps some loves

were never written

to become a life together.

Perhaps they were written

to become a light within the soul—

a quiet constellation

no distance can erase,

no silence can extinguish,

no ending can teach the heart to forget.

You became the song

I could not keep,

yet could never stop hearing—

a melody wandering through my silence,

long after the singer

had disappeared into the night.

I love you so much—

more deeply than I understood,

more silently than I ever confessed,

and perhaps more truly

than my younger heart

was ever wise enough to say.

If love means holding,

I have learned to let you go.

If love means forgetting,

then I have failed completely.

But if love means

carrying someone's light

without asking them to return—

then perhaps,

even in losing you,

I have loved you

the purest way

my soul ever knew how.

@P@J

Date- 15/8/26

Written by- Priyanka Jalan

المنتدى الدولي للإبداع والإنسانية المملكة المغربية

  Written by- Priyanka Jalan The Light You Left Behind The river knows the sea only after it leaves the mountain; the bird discovers the sky...