The Silver Arc

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Another year has spun its thread,

A silver arc the daylight led,

A quiet turn of earth and sky,

With ordinary days gone by.

No trumpet sounded time’s advance,

Just morning light and evening’s chance,

Yet every step, however small,

Was warmed by you-I felt it all.


Each season paints a different hue,

Spring’s soft hope, summer’s deeper blue,

Autumn’s gold that learns to fall,

And winter’s hush that stills us all.

And every one I share with you

Becomes more honest, more than true-

Richer, deeper, softly spun,

Like threads that know where they belong.


The laughter shared in careless streams,

The quiet mending of our dreams,

The tears we dried without a word,

The comfort felt, not always heard.

Side by side in stillness found,

We learned what peace could sound like-sound

Of breathing slow, of trust held fast,

Of moments made to gently last.


No map was drawn for where we went,

No great design, no grand intent,

Just days that asked we show our face,

And love that learned a steady pace.

No distant wonder, bold or new,

Could ever quite compare-t’s true-

To this small life we choose to trace,

Another year within your grace.


So let the sun begin again,

Its light fall soft on where we’ve been,

If time must move, then let it do

So long as I’m still moving too-

With you beside me, near and true,

My favourite journey’s always you.

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