Author’s Note

A reminder to myself that beauty doesn’t always arrive with thunder.
Sometimes it whispers. Sometimes it’s already here.

Everyday
Poetry by Rowan Evans

Sunlight spills through half-drawn blinds,
painting golden lace upon the floor.
Steam curls from a morning cup,
a quiet warmth I’ve known before.

Laughter echoes down the street,
a child’s joy, light as air.
The scent of rain upon the earth,
a fleeting kiss left unaware.

Fingers brushing, side by side,
a touch too soft to memorize.
Yet love lingers in the spaces small,
where meaning hides behind our eyes.

The little things, the whispered light,
the moments blurred in passing time—
they shape the colors of our days,
the poetry of the everyday sublime.

Looking for more poetry? You can find it all in [The Library of Ashes].