Poem: September 8th

September 8th… The beginning of all stories. September 8th… The end of the chill. September 8th… A day steeped in history. A history that cannot be written with a pen. September 8th… A cool breeze blows From the eastern hill to the western hill, Promising a delightful revelry, Offering the sweetness of love, Spreading a refreshing fragrance. September 8th… A leaf has fallen, A leaf bearing your name. I picked it up and kept it, Forever clinging to my heart. Your name, a name carried by the gentle breeze. Even the rows of trees knew I would welcome that leaf. But, how many leaves bearing your name have fallen? So many have received your name in their hearts, Turning it into a flower in the garden of Heaven. Am I the only one who cherishes it with such love? I don't know, All I know is, now I love you, Since September 8th. My heart is still whole, you've never broken it. And your name, never torn or tattered. Like September 8th, The first day I wrote your name in memory. The first day I painted your face on the wall of hope, The first day I carved memories into life's story, The first day your voice echoed in my ears, The first day your shadow began to permeate my eyelids. September 8th… The day I fell in love With you, who remains a desire in my dreams, Dreams that unfolded from September 8th.