In Letting Be

You never saw the way I stayed,

When silence stood and love betrayed,

You never caught how much I knew,

Not from your words, but what came through.

You never felt the hands I held,

Around the grief you never spelled,

You never saw the room I kept,

For every storm you never wept.

You never asked how deep it goes,

This kind of love that never shows.

It breathes in silence, wide and still,

And never acts against the will.

The love was not to make you mine,

But just enough to draw the line,

It never forced itself to be,

And maybe that’s why it’s so free.

Love doesn’t pull you from the cave,

It doesn’t shout, or plead, or save,

It waits outside, and lights a flame,

And whispers soft, not loud with blame.

It doesn’t bruise, it doesn’t bind,

It doesn’t beg or change your mind,

It simply stands, with hands held low,

And leaves the rest to what you know.

It never breaks the silent wall,

But hopes you’ll hear its quiet call, 

Not here to chase or tear apart,

It’s just a fire, warm and smart.

Cathrine Hottran 2025