silence

the ways, how silence lies between
two people, sharply may vary
sometimes depicting things unseen,
thus useless to a focused eye

there comes the time when silence is
as sharp as freshly sharpened blade
that brings the other to his knees 
to make him realize he’s late

a silent cloud that hangs on top
of cosy little empty towns
like long ago forgotten prop,
accumulating extra sounds

then pours those sounds when comes the time
on top of someone who deserves
a lesson for committed crime
or justice to his rotten nerves

a silent night, that’s rest to some,
to others — torture ‘till the rise,
an empty void to overcome,
survive until the morning skies

adjust the compass, calibrate
its tiny intuition peaks
to guide you through the utmost state
of listening before he speaks

the way of silence giving space
to faze, embarass or support
is gambling on a paper chase,
a trust you have to learn of sort

it may be comforting and light,
or may just hang there like a sword
it takes you both to feel alright
before is born the precious Word