I Am Silence… and You Are Its Voice

 I Am Silence… and You Are Its Voice

I am silence…

a still, unmoving lake,

where stones of words

sink deep—

yet raise no ripples.

And you—

the first drop

falling upon its surface,

turning stillness

into a melody.

I am that emptiness

resting quietly

in some corner of the heart,

where even echoes

fear to arrive.

And you—

that gentle knock,

which never touches the door,

yet finds its way within.

I am silence…

that has witnessed so much,

yet spoken nothing,

burying every question

within itself.

And you—

the answer

that never reaches the lips,

yet is heard

in every heartbeat.

Sometimes,

when I listen to myself,

I find only quiet—

like a deserted city

lost in its own echo.

But when you

come close to me,

that same silence

slowly begins

to take shape as words.

I am silence…

one that asks for time,

for patience,

and a little solitude

to be understood.

And you—

the voice

that reaches the heart

without waiting at all.

Your presence

is not noise,

not a disturbance—

but a soft rhythm

resonating

within my silence.

I never called you,

for I feared

that giving you a name

might make me lose you.

And yet,

you kept flowing into me,

like a melody

that settles in the heart

on its own.

I am silence…

not incomplete without you,

but lifeless, perhaps.

And you—

a voice without me,

yet maybe

even you need someone

to truly hear you.

We are

two halves

of the same story—

I, the stillness,

and you, the flow.

I am silence…

and you are its voice.

Together,

we become a raga—

not something heard,

but something deeply felt.

And perhaps…

this is what we are:

You teach me

how to speak,

and I give you

your depth.

I am silence…

and you are its voice—

two sensations

of the same soul,

never truly separate,

even in distance.

mukesh,,,,