Whisperium

A quiet architecture;
Hewn from the silence of winter’s mass
The celestial, pristine imperious coats of it
Crystalline and fine, ephemeral and mystical
Absorbing all sound, reflecting all light
White, containing all colors still
A frozen wall to shelter from the chill
Dense as glass, the vessel will dissolve

Silhouettes stop along the path, they slip away
Drawn inside by the persistent glow
Into the void’s embrace; déja vu
Then, warm words into a cold ear
The breath steam hanging there
As the glistening walls pulse with light
Above, an untethered star tears the sky

Listen to the night
We inhabit this shell for a moment or so
Like a ruined chapel in a dream
As the city whispers and trees fall asleep
The river moves beneath us, beneath the season
So, we go with the flow
Like melting snow of prairie childhoods
Back into the hushed, shimmering dark