The Sound of Silence

  

 Silence fills the night

      Like the piercing squeal of a child’s delight,

Or the lilting notes of a lullaby.

A silence so voluptuous and rich

Like the glossy sheen of ebony ink,

A plush feather dancing across the page

As a silent orchestra plays –

Or the noiseless Pandemonium

Where a speechless Satan reigns.

More silent still, like the voiceless hills

  That drown the river’s unheard roar

In mute mockery.

  Can you hear it? The breathless whisper

  That amplifies to my unheeding ears

 A deafening cacophony?

I cannot fathom

The flapping of a butterfly’s wings

In vain pursuit of the choicest flower,

A cobra’s hiss as it wields the power

To blot out life forever.

But you, who have heard the autumn leaves

Change colour and crumple

To death’s cold touch, cannot

The silence see.

I can; I have watched it creep noiselessly

To my brick-red balcony and knock

On my window pane, waiting to be let in.

I have felt silence close in stealthily

As I averted my eyes from an unknown world

Whose music is lost on me.

The storm clouds groan with the weight of rain

Too distant to be heard.

The stars twinkle in soft sympathy,

Glaring at the moon who beams

 With the raucous laughter of wordless mischief.

Silence is the night.