Silence, I speak with you with closed lips,

Silence, I grow roots that moves the mystic night in me,

a fruit tree full of waiting

owns no seed, no fruit, just a house crying loud

to be soaked with water and joy.

Silence, come down from the throne of sky

from patience of earth,

break your cup against a rock

pull the body of my longing

into the fresh smell of wet grass

and wrap my human hunger with taste of

forbidden love.
End this poem in my heart,

and listen to eternal songs from my sealed lips

until my heart says “no more touch “

and sky pours wine

over the naked rose of her flesh.
before lily reach out of the wilderness of night

and passionately make love with hundred universes

that weep for the bravery of a lover

whom have dared to meet God

after thousands silent nights,

what pours out

in a sweet taste of honey and mango of her soul.

Being with God, is the silent love making of morning sun rays

over the fresh flow of a stream

Running close to destiny of clouds, stars and haunted lovers

in forests of theirs hearts.

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