Divine love doesn’t text at midnight,
asking if you’re awake—
it’s already curled in your bones,
resting like a queen on her throne,
no need for alarms, no need for applause.
It walks in—
white veil in the wind,
graceful, untangled,
not a single hair out of place.
True love doesn’t gossip about exes,
doesn’t compare,
doesn’t even blink at chaos.
It looks at you,
smiles,
and says with velvet certainty:
Darling, peace is permanent here.
It’s not fireworks,
not rented roses on Valentine’s Day.
It’s the hush of water finding the ocean,
the way your lungs finally remember
They were made to expand.
This love is so confident,
it doesn’t need hashtags.
So poised,
it doesn’t flinch when the world shouts.
So clear,
it could slice through illusion
with a feather.
Regal not by effort,
but by birthright,
This love is the crown that cannot slip,
the throne that cannot burn,
the veil that does not tangle,
even when the wind dares to test it.
Here—
You rest without interruption.
Here—
You become both wind and veil,
carrier and carried.
And if anyone asks what it feels like,
You tell them:
It feels like freedom wearing silk,
with a smile that already knows the ending–
Copyright © 2025 Sherley Delia |All rights reserved.
Healing Majestically 
Beautiful.
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