Are you aware, my love? Are you aware
of these whispers I hear –
from within you?
Are you aware of the existence
of a poem so beautiful, so beautiful
it shall shame –
every one of them ever written,
floating inside you?
Every time,
every time when my head rests against your heart,
when your hands trace the length of my hair,
when our eyes are closed, and souls entwined,
In that moment of magic, of heaven and joy, and
bliss of being, I hear a poem,
more like a song – soft and subtle,
but of essence enchanting!
I press my ear closer to your chest
craving for more of that –
what you preserve.
You twist a little, wrapping me
in your arms, smile a bit –
knowing not what I am up to.
What was left of the concept of space
dissolves into the realm of being.
Here I am, enthralled
by your words unspoken; love, untouched,
in search of a poem I so know exists,
and so it does, beneath
the splices of silence –
and mystery, forever to unfold.
