The quiet breeze found in night
traveled softly beyond the sight,
cooled beneath the darkened skies
yet never still, nor trapped, nor tied.

It wandered on to feed a flame,
unnamed by mouth, untouched by name,
warmed beneath the crackling fire,
still breathing through an old desire.

The quiet breeze beneath one sky
left your lungs to enter mine,
crossing years like distant seas,
carrying forgotten things.

The same wind born from older stars
that breathed through love and fed the scars,
still moving where no hands remain,
a warmth that lingers after pain.

Penned by my hand on the 17th of Aeguary, in the year 1004 AF.