6th Day — A Poem, a Smile, a BeginningSpring leaned in closer today.The wind was gentle, playful even, as if nudging me to open the pages of myself just a little more.I sat under the gulmohar tree near the library steps, my diary open on my lap.Today, I didn’t write to escape.I wrote because I wanted him to know what he meant.Not directly.But in the way poets speak — softly, secretly, in metaphors.I scribbled lines between doodles and fallen petals:> “If spring has a soul,it hides in your voice.Not loud — but light.Not bright — but brave.”I didn’t notice he