deepundergroundpoetry.com
Hymns of silence
The trains of thought are leaving
Vanishing sounds fill the air
Somewhere in the night
A woman tracing footprints
Of a man whose fading face
Ripples the water
She dreams of the scented moonlight
Nightmoist on dewdrops and spider webs
The tourmaline sky is the womb of the world
She failed to comprehend the delicate intend
Of searching hands, where in abscence
Only the hymns of silence understand
Vanishing sounds fill the air
Somewhere in the night
A woman tracing footprints
Of a man whose fading face
Ripples the water
She dreams of the scented moonlight
Nightmoist on dewdrops and spider webs
The tourmaline sky is the womb of the world
She failed to comprehend the delicate intend
Of searching hands, where in abscence
Only the hymns of silence understand
Published 1st Oct 2015
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