Giving Silence Life
by Odin Roark

Avoiding corners of mind,
silence creeps with shadowed footsteps into vacuous darkness,
knowing not why it roils,
why unfulfilled by what eyes can only see,
ears can only hear.

Mind…

Where touch translates linguistic magic
and fragrance floats like translucent etchings,
where whispered echoes quietly remind mute expressions,
the brush knows not the canvas,
save for pigment and oil,
and the melody of thought
reaches witness without song.

So too…

A pen without ink
is but a lonely vessel,
adrift an endless sea of synapse and lightning,
where silence resides as temporary vacuum,
unwilling to be the moment,
best left behind.

Like enigmatic thoughts,
echoes drift toward days uncharted,
awaiting fleeting chances made conscious,
knowing such moments are but for seizing… by us.