Poetry

In quiet hours when the world grows still,
And winds retreat beyond the hill,
There breathes a calm, a sacred space,
Where thoughts may wander, slow their pace.

No need for words to pierce the air,
No voice to prove that someone cares.
In silence dwells a deeper sound—
The pulse of earth, profound, unbound.

A whisper floats from leaf to tree,
A secret told by sky to sea.
In hush, the soul begins to hear
The truths that noise keeps far and near.

It mends, it soothes, it softly speaks
Of ancient stars and mountain peaks,
Of tears unshed, of joy unseen,
Of all that lies in the in-between.

So let the silence wrap you tight,
A velvet cloak, a kiss of night.
For in its beauty, brave and wide,
We meet ourselves—the self we hide