In silence we walk --

between leaves a lemon sun

cypresses and lean hyssops

tender green hills --

there is no need for words

where the wind whispers freely

we sit --

your smile speaks of reunion

I am forgetful, forgiving, forgiven

I’m all leaves of grass and thymus

the crumbly rock, I am, the nectar

the timeless mantra, the soothing stone

our joined hands speak of silence

of its liquid presence, of its ethereal greeting

as again, we walk

to those ancient buildings

made of ageless French stone

past resilience, well beyond the simple promise

after compline, when the sky pours its darkness

willingly, we’ll tear this quiet blanket

only when time’s voice is ripe

and silence’s work is done.