I listen to the stillness of you, <br /> My dear, among it all; <br />I feel your silence touch my words as I talk, <br /> And take them in thrall. <br /> <br />My words fly off a forge <br /> The length of a spark; <br />I see the night-sky easily sip them <br /> Up in the dark. <br /> <br />The lark sings loud and glad, <br /> Yet I am not loth <br />That silence should take the song and the bird <br /> And lose them both. <br /> <br />A train goes roaring south, <br /> The steam-flag flying; <br />I see the stealthy shadow of silence <br /> Alongside going. <br /> <br />And off the forge of the world, <br /> Whirling in the draught of life, <br />Go sparks of myriad people, filling <br /> The night with strife. <br /> <br />Yet they never change the darkness <br /> Or blench it with noise; <br />Alone on the perfect silence <br /> The stars are buoys.<br /><br />David Herbert Lawrence<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/listening-3/
