With You, The Sun Always Rises

It was an ordinary morning, spring still cold upon my sleeves. I watched the town slide past the window through quiet, sleepy streets. On the ride to school I saw you, not loud, not shining, just there. But suddenly the light felt different, like the sky learned how to care. With you, the sun always rises, with you, the light always shines, even when I hide, warm gold inside. No words, no vow, still it’s true. You’re my sunrise. I kept my words behind my teeth, but I think you felt them too. One small seat, one borrowed smile, and everything looked new. Each ride became a little hope, a quiet wish I couldn’t say. Nothing spoken, nothing promised, just warmth that chose to stay. With you, the sun always rises, with you, the light always shines, even when I hide, warm gold inside. No words, no vow, still it’s true. You’re my sunrise. Then one day your seat was empty, same old road, but different air. A rumor - transfer, family, distance, no one knew where. Seasons turned like pages slowly: rainy nights and summer heat, autumn wind at the school gate, winter scarves in crowded streets. Seasons turned, and I kept going, first love, then letting go. Yet under station lights at midnight, I’d still wonder where you were. Much later I heard what you carried, more than I could ever see. Maybe you left to spare us both a harder kind of dream. Now years upon our faces, scars we don’t explain, we meet again like cherry blossoms returning after rain. With you, the sun always rises, with you, the light always shines, after all this time, your light is mine. We lived apart, we made it through. You’re my sunrise. We don’t have to rewrite our story, or borrow back the years we lost. Just walk with me a little while, beneath a quiet, warming dawn.