In the cathedral of silence, beneath the vaults of stars and shadows
In the cathedral of silence, beneath the vaults of stars and shadows,
A man opens his soul like an ancient parchment in the hands of a divine scribe.
His words are forgotten runes, whispers of a world lost through time,
And she, the enigmatic listener, becomes the priestess of understanding, the sanctuary of his hidden self.
To every word spoken, an echo of destiny drawn in the ether responds,
Invisible bonds woven in the thread of listening stronger than the laws of the world.
Donating her attention as a sacred offering, she soothes his thoughts like a silver mist,
And he feels a wave of inner light, as if stepping onto hallowed ground.
In the mirror of her eyes, he discerns the outlines of a gentle infinity,
Sighs of a hidden sky, vibrating in the depths of an ocean of silences.
Under her chiaroscuro gaze, his soul rises like mist on a tranquil lake,
And a kind of love, unseen until now, finds its roots in the soil of his world.
She, the listener of secret tales, is a torch in the temple of thoughts,
A mirror reflecting and embracing all the shades of his unshaped light.
The man, already entwined in the spells of listening, feels his heart open like a nocturnal lotus,
In the light that hovers between his words and her sacred attention.
Thus, in that mystical sanctuary of their meeting,
Invisible stories and destined futures are written, a sacred ensemble of sonorous silences.
A man, already halfway in love, finds in her listening an Eden glimpsed,
And in his heart, like the flame of a stellar spirit, love begins to shine anew.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
|