Her

She comes the way the morning does,

Soft light along the floor,

And suddenly the room feels warm

In ways it wasn't before.

She carries quiet like a gift,

A calm you want to keep,

The kind of peace that lets a heart

Lay down its load and sleep.

Her laughter doesn't ask for leave,

It spills and dances free,

And turns the simplest, smallest things

To something bright to see.

But don't mistake her gentle ways

For only something mild,

There's iron in her steady soul,

Unshaken, strong, and wild.

She loves in ways that make no sound,

A word, a glance, a touch,

She never asks for thanks or praise,

Yet gives the world so much.

Some people pass like fleeting rain

And fade before they're known,

But she remains like summer light,

And everywhere feels like home.

- Aditya Dube (Adi)