In the hushed grove where feelings bloom,
I found you—soft beneath love's loom.
Not rose nor thorn, not bloom nor flame,
But almond-shaped, and just the same.
You are the almond in my chest,
A tender seed in my heart
Hard-shelled where pain has shaped your form,
Yet in your core, the sun stays warm.
I cracked through walls you never spoke,
A hush of flesh beneath the oak.
Your silence hid the sweetest part—
The bitter skin, the sugared heart.
Not every love is loud and red,
Some whisper where the almond's fed.
Dry lands it needs, and patient skies—
Like us, who loved with quiet eyes.
In famine days, you still held tight,
A promise folded, sealed in light.
Where others sought the bloom and flair,
I found your truth in what lay bare.
So let them chase their cherry trees,
Their fragrant flings, their eager breeze.
I'll take the tree that bears your name—
The almond love, both strong and flame.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem