This silence, 
       empty of itself.
 Pregnant with potential,
       entranced by its existence.

This silence offers something
       or nothing.
This timelessness melds the dance
       of past, present and future.

This silence embraces subtlety,
       with thoughts lighter than floating feathers,
            no inner voice whispering.

This silence allows whispers in the night,
       the leaf to glide to the earth,
            the spider to travel across its web
                   and I to forget my whole existence.