Tiny in the sounds of Silence

Even lonely nights flee from silence. They too have their notes to lend, how robust are the songs in chorus when the evening act begins. The night hides the performance when the actors take a bow, playing a part on nature’s stage, pleading the ear to marvel how. Small mysteries of the night come calling and the plots are never the same. and the music is live and keenly written In the world of tiny things. The moon is the director, setting the stage for all to play. The wind loosens a falling leaf and a mouse scurries away. Diminutive is the cities insignificant to all above, A world in perfect order yet void of the feelings of love. The spider spins his tiny web just above the ground, it seems to appear in diamonds of dew how trifling is the tiny sound? A cricket singing his nightly song the frog croaking on the pond, a night- time serenade of voices and the silence is over and done.