Silence

Silence is symphony of bare homes
That flourishes in rhythm of longing
Where dust of space piles on clocks,
On books and pens and drawing curtains
On mirror which myths the faces of smiles,
Of pain, of rapture, of calm, of delight
All await to hear a sound,
A whisper, a talk or laugh resounds.

An empty chaos
Where, absence floats...
The same one that longs to embrace,
The silhouettes of its lost frames.

Such silence perturbs through lively tenors
A whirring of wings,
Or crackling leaves
Chirping crickets,
Or humming bees...
Gracious visitors of such homes...
Who promise them to wait for a life
A dweller who plays the music of soulful vibe.