Silent Symphony

Silence does not exist.

It pounds.
My head drums to the steady beat
of a constant wind
that radiates through the atmosphere.
My body is chilled and the
dark quiet of the room is shattered
with each dull throb.
I attempt to absorb the silence,
to let it fill me with its affectionate vigor,
its hopeful dreams and whispered platitudes
joining the rustic beat
of my aching cerebrum.
Its silent desires and joyful insomnia
lurking through my tired thoughts,
my tired existence.
The gentle, barely audible soprano of the
restless early morning lingers within my mind.
A silent symphony merges within these walls.
The hum of a breath,
the flicker of an eyelash,
the tentative movement of a frightful dream,
they are the shaky foothold that rocks me to sleep.
Making good night kisses
and sweetly sung lullabies obsolete.