The Night Is A Good Listener
The night is a good listener
How I wonder how huge its ears are,
How deep its patience in the silence
Of an ocean floor, how wide its embrace,
Like a cool thick forest, like a coiling river,
As though time does not even exist,
The night is listening to me
Intently, like I were her only son,
Because the rest of her servants and mistresses
Are all asleep,
She is so silent, in tiptoes, in a hush,
This night, I can hear how the ants crawl for crumbs,
How the lizards run and play & catch its prey on the ceiling,
How the prey on the other hand, struggles to escape,
How the air gushes on the window pane,
How the whispers of my heart sound like
Some dews dropping on some soft green blades of grass,
Indeed night is so patient, so ever silent,
Though sleepy, it gazes in me, trying to
Understand what all these silent conversation is all about,
The night understands, lip-reading my thoughts,
Listening intently, the night sits, and
Now, signals for an embrace, with arms and heart wide open
Some of her tears are starting to fall.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
