The cardamom scent fills our heavy lungs,
its sweetness bending time in quiet ways.
You taught me how to listen to small songs,
the sparrows singing psalms to morning rays.

Your voice like summer rain that softly falls,
it carries hope like whispers in the trees.
I hear the sparrows' hymn, their gentle calls,
and time slows down, as love flows with the breeze.

Your lips taste like...