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Silence

Life death and the sleepless interstices within,
long peaceful nights of wonder; restive isolation.
The void engulfs all that lies in it; no - all that it is,
like sparkling rain drops that create small waves,
small waves that meet, hop, and then make way,
for stillness of the lake - deep blue it rests, perseveres.
The vignettes that the clouds paint, myths and mist
mingle, ally, cry, make merry, and then give way,
to the lingering sky - its deep blue drapes, curtains.


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Listen

Listen to the first chirps of the early bird, that shatter the silence of breaking dawn, But it is the silence that lets it be heard, and it is the darkness that light creeps on. Listen to the squeaks of the bank of a river, that lets the brooks and creeks to flow through, Listen to the falling leaf and its quiver, that lets the earth blossom with many a hue. Listen to the cries of a newborn child, who gets ready to carry the burdens of life, Listen to the shivers of the man on the street, who waits for seasons that are just a little mild. Listen to the quarrels of old men on the park bench, for they have nothing to lose and lot to strife, Listen, to all the loud clamours of breath, But bear in your heart the deafening silence of death.