In Your Absence
In your absence I can hear
quiet slumber of our senses ringing
in my doubtful ear, it gives
a muffled sigh.
"Why are we here? Why are we here?"
for time and time again we cry
until softly hums your lullaby.
It hums in strides of butterflies.
It tip-toes into my thoughts and dreaming.
Who was I. To see a cocoon would grow
from tiny seeds flowing up and downstream
blossoming in my mind's tireless night. Who am I.
To know the silence of a calm singing
aglow in the attics of our child-like hearts
is the most precious wind. A breath. Continuously seeking.
Greeted by the hum. Your lullaby.