On Silence

Silence

My eyes don't see but hear

You in between

These dangling notes that climb

From line to line,

As the hands of time

Compel each ivory dip

Or slur

As a stream of

Melodies swirling

In tip-toes on the floor

Bending and swaying

To sky outreaching

Note to note;

Tone to tone.

Without you

There is no key in between

And the notes would

Splatter in space;

Incomprehensible.

And the dancer, its toes

Missing the right floor

Will stagger and fall

And the hand that moves you

Will never find

The life that's in-between

For life that's in-between

Will cease to be.

Without the notes

The music remains

To be

A dream

That may find meaning

In between the keys

Something the eye would miss

But the heart will cherish,

For with all of these

Apparentness

Of slurs and sharps

In life's clef of temporariness,

Only you which these eyes can't find

Wins the true encore of time.

---Bron Joseph C. Teves, 12/31/2007, Center for Spiritual Learning, Tagaytay City

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