The Silence of Love

If there is ever a sound that captures love in all its glory,

It must be the sound the heart makes when it misses a beat;

Like that momentary stillness that night breathes across the city,

Like the rolling of relief over the aching body – warm or cool, soothing,

Like a mother’s embrace in the mind of a child,

Like the memory conjured by a smell, unintentional temporal transportation,

Like the passing of an obscure summer’s day, hazy comfort dripped lazy,

Like the time when paranoia, pressure and anticipation converge in absence,

And the sound is all around

Love, love, love…

Silence is the sound,

Silence is our love, it is the missed beat

And those that would be together

Willed and strained, bound, entwined,

Turn in a simultaneous effort

In sleep, to the Heavens

With their embrace the silence streams between them,

The milk and honey of days gone by;

Flashes and reminiscences blinking and winking

Within the mind’s eye.

And that skip in the heart deceives us,

For it is no more than a hope,

Understanding at once it’s shaping of our words,

It’s shaping of our thoughts,

It’s joining of our time,

Even when apart.

Yet it can be no more than this hope –

Reciprocation

In sharing our shapeless silent love,

Between the breaths of the night

And beats of our hearts.