I once dreamt of an open field, <br />The bareness of which alone did shield, <br />A shadow so frail, in a shadow as such <br />Silence. <br />I thought as much. <br /> <br />I felt it again on my bed at night <br />Darkness; through which I saw the light <br />Silence - to feel; and to feel so weak, <br />Silence, I think I heard her speak. <br /> <br />The crowd through which I made my way, <br />Gave me a second to poise it through <br />Shouts around, though I felt them nay, <br />The Me within, in silence too. <br /> <br />The hours of solace so gifted in tune, <br />A language unworldly, (beyond the moon!) <br />To realize it though, you need the frame, <br />Simple at first, ’ Patience’ the name. <br /> <br />Foes though come, are conquered all. <br />In her skin, she does stand tall, <br />Naïve it is, but more a bridge <br />Vain and slain, together abridged. <br /> <br />As every dawn turns the key, <br />Feel her true for a minute or two: <br />The price of it, without much ado, <br />Reflects around in the eyes you see!<br /><br />Rosmin Elsa Mohan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/silence-447/
