Magical Touch

Empty as a winter garden

The paper, a mirror of her heart;

Neither a word

Nor an emotion

Found a place in the icy soul.

The months passed by

The ice piling higher and higher

While the pages of a diary

Stayed untouched

Blank paper on paper.

A chance touch

A random hug

Tiny fingers that refused to let go

Ignoring the numbing cold

To coax a flicker in those mirthless eyes.

A miracle, they called that love

When the frost began to melt

Allowing the chaotic emotions to tumble

Like the blooming red roses

While inked words rushed to adorn the papers of her diary.