Coming close

to the sound made of light
almost soundless steps stair by stair
eavesdropping
the crackling of the staircase
glued to the buzzing in my own ears
is that you

coming close to the window silently breaking
to the opening of the eyelids into the night
with the taste of the word 'never' on the tip of my tongue
a shadow swallowed in each word
is that you

coming close always to the outbreak
sewed within a bird mad enough to fly
coming close always with the hope
painful enough to remember a dream
is that you

is that you
thus whispered the night
is that you
thus cried the streets
is that you
thus thundered the mountain
is that you
thus were silent the galaxies

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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