Silence

Autumn arrived,
and in the exile of the beloved
I began to dance.
With me,
even the withered leaves
started to hum—
as if the pain of parting
belonged not to humans alone.

Trees stood mute,
turned into spectators,
and birds
came to rest upon the branches,
entrusting the sorrow of their hearts
to the passing air.

Then I learned
that communion with nature
is impossible without a touch of madness;
for those ruled by reason
grow fearful
under the mere weight of circumstance
and stop.

The heart that was once restless
slipped from my hands;
my gaze froze in one place,
and feeling itself
lost the way.

In the shade of those tresses
how many stories once lived—
yet we found no shelter there,
and dreams
slowly, quietly,
began to slide away.

There was no one
to become the heart’s companion,
no keeper of secrets;
so we took our tears alone
and made them our company.

At last,
the heart called out to silence,
and emotions
began to take shape
as words.