Cradled in Quiet

My words carry pieces of me.
And I floated in quiet curiosity, wondering if you had seen me in them.
I waited — not impatiently…
Gently, and holding space in my heart
Standing on the edge of what’s to come.

Without expectation, I reached out softly
Not because I needed praise or approval…
It wasn’t a plea. It wasn’t even a question.
It was a quiet invitation, resting just beyond your gaze.
A seed of presence, left where your stillness might find it.

Your reply came — kind, distant,
wrapped in the careful language of postponement.
Not a rejection, not quite indifference,
just a door quietly left untouched.
And so I felt it.
The light ache of not being seen.
The tender ache of wanting more than silence could carry.

Still — I’m grateful.
Grateful I reached out.
Grateful I cared enough to ask.
Grateful for the honesty of that silence.
The silence that holds the door to deep connections.
After all, not every seed is meant to bloom.
Some are simply there to show us the soil we’re standing on
and how willing we are to love, even when the answer is silence.