Rhythms On The Wind

I wonder if silence knows
the potency of a whisper.

Time hides in shadows of clouds
the whispers in twilight hours.

They both scream to the air
echoing across the sky
in rhythms on the wind
distance frees them.
A dirge plays in the breath of the aura
free of flesh I lose myself in the serenity
of the silence that follows
only ambience left behind.