Blissful Mornings - Where Love Still Whispers
The wooden floor beneath Leila’s feet creaked with the soft language of time. She walked carefully, her fingers grazing the walls of her grandmother’s old home—a home that had stood for generations, tucked away on a hill where the wind always carried the scent of wild jasmine.
She had come here alone, drawn by something she could not name. The house had been empty for years, and yet, it still breathed. The lace curtains swayed as if stirred by unseen hands, and the air was thick with the perfume of memories that had never left.
As she stepped into the parlor, her eyes landed on an old mirror resting against the wall. The silver frame was adorned with delicate carvings of vines and blossoms, the same pattern she had seen in the embroidery of her grandmother’s shawls.
Leila knelt before it, dusting the glass with the sleeve of her sweater. And then—she saw her.
Her grandmother.
Not in a way that startled or frightened. No, she was there in the gentle curve of Leila’s own face, in the warmth that filled the room, in the faint whisper of a lullaby that seemed to hum from nowhere.
“Love never leaves,” the thought settled into her like a truth she had always known but never spoken.
She reached out, pressing her palm to the glass, and a quiet breeze brushed against her cheek, like the softest of kisses.
The Universal Law of Correspondence had long whispered in her lineage—“as above, so below; as within, so without.” The love that had once wrapped around her as a child still existed here, just as it did in her heart.
She smiled, her reflection smiling back—not just her own, but a tapestry of all those who had loved before her.
And in that moment, time folded. Distance vanished.
Leila stood, smoothing her hands over her sweater as if straightening an invisible shawl. She did not need to stay here to feel her grandmother’s presence. She understood now.
Love transcended.
She turned toward the door, stepping into the golden morning light, carrying with her the warmth of every whispered love that had ever been.
-Bliss Chains Authors
