A poem simply sounds the bell, of that which words could never tell.


When the ticking of the clock,
The gentle hum of the fridge,
The intermittent meow of the cat
Are framed by a silence,
When the glare of the reading lamp,
The colour of the desk,
The story in black on white,
Float like a fragile raft
On a sea of invisibility,
When the beating of my heart,
The tide of my breath,
The distance between laughter
And sorrow,
Appear before
A strange jury of knowing,
A vast peace descends,
A great love expands,
Time stands still,
And mystery reigns supreme.

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