There is a silence bursting forth
            from the middle of things,       like the name
            of a beloved that sings             exchanged between the lover
            and his inner thoughts
                        cherished like a treasure
            this nameless presence is nearer to you than your inner thoughts
            yet more distant than limits of the universe
            this beautiful contagious silence cannot be caught
            by the imaginations of a science
                        whose formulas are like machines
                                       which conquer all that can be seen,
                        but are unable to enjoy the rest of a tranquil heart
there is this solitude
            which runs deeper than the known
            deeper than which calculation has shown
            it is a silence that breaths in the middle of exchanges
            a moment which rearranges the interior of the soul
            like a bowl filled with oil and vinegar
                        that needs to be stirred for the sake of flavor
                        so that one might savor the mixing
                        of two elements which remain distinct
                        but yet are joined together create a delicious harmony
I know silence             I have reeked of it in the morning
            and being apprehended by a police officer at 5 am
            I have been accused of driving under the influence of silence
                        and where was I going?
            If not to spend more of my hard earned money on her
            You see, I am hopelessly addicted to her quiet embrace
            and I stare constantly at her warm inviting face
I have been accused of being an armed accomplice of silence
                        I have helped her to rob unsuspecting victims
                        we have entered  into situations where
                                    noise is the norm
                                    and her beauty is unwanted, unheeded, undesired
                        and I have been convicted of these crimes
                                    against the chatter of casual conversation
                                    the smoke of empty words
                                          the endless stream of meaningless ponderings
                                    the pratter of hours consumed with little loud nothings
                                    all frivolous in afternoon  rooms
                        I have done violence to these useless spaces
But I have also made friends based on silence
            where more is experienced in the common quiet
            than in ambitious clanks and rattles
            these are the times of leisure
                    when gold is as useless as tinsel
            and meaning is a deep treasure
                        that cannot be measured
                        but is like a banquet shared among people
                                                who know silence.
            People who have come to live in these shades,
                        and can recognize the textures
                                                            of silence
            People who have worshipped
                        and have stirred devotion in the tender fleeting moments
                                                            of silence
            People who have drunk deep of her wine
                        and share heart to heart within the shades
                                                            of silence
Yes, the only proper place for love is silence.