Silent Tongues

Triptych

I

Hungry birds' laugh,
wind blows bones
from empty nests,
below they forget 
    
    the silence,

     the secret 
  
   under persistent
 
        illusion


Everything can become a desert,
the love that comes unhindered,
the vines that cover our breath,
the shrine of sights unintruded
    
I shall not accuse clouds
or linger in the sun,
springs will bring
with adequate speed
the forgotten wine

    of Silences

II

In the wild among ruins'
sculptures in smoke 
we saw death in each other,
and love became possible,
branches perforating skies,
sharp rocks drawing blood 
from a weakened sun,
the penetration of air
into the blooming skins,
and we knew the penitence
of sins against Silence 

Tongues of fire
submerged in the welkin,
the melding landscapes
of bodies reunited,
fire that is flesh 
fruit to the palate,
wines to eyes'
flooding brims,
dissolve,
for nothing exceeds 

       Silence


III

A bird exhales it's bones into the air
and the rain,
   the old rain,
fills them with flesh,
now both lovers praise the pain
that frees bodies 
of limit

Warm serpent's molting
feathers and tongues 
race through the wind
and lower through whim
to observe our purity

The great Silence
of empty skins

The glooming
that starts within
we're we meet
shadowy and complicit,
in dragonfly lands
behind noise,
look at the pond:

     
.
        

It holds all Silence

Pieter Breughel