When you’ve reached for my hand
And grazed it on my armchair
And all we could do is look at each
Other in the eyes, it was quiet.
When you’ve hummed your songs
In the hallway while you walked beside me
As we head into the classroom, it was quiet.
When you’ve shared your thoughts
With the world and it was
Transcending the barriers of strangeness
And indifference as it speaks
Of a personal wonder, all the other concerns of life
Gets muted out, it was quiet.
When you cry one night and
The misses of implicitness and omission
Perturbs your soul and stops you,
it will be quiet.
When the playing child couldn’t tell
The road to home, the shadows will be quiet.
When identity for the people
Overcomes the identity for the self,
The self gets lost in silence.
When brashness of wit slits the
Throat of a listener, a listener gets
Lost in its silence.
When memories of weariness and
Flamed courtesans instill itself more
Certainty in every living moment than honor,
Dreams would carry the silence.
When the day has passed to
Welcome the shrouding dusk, and I
Stood there watching in silence
Waiting for the noise to recognize
It’s all quiet, it will be too late.