loquacious silence

Yesterday night the silence was not silent

It was bent

On creating a cacophony

Trying to make itself be heard above the shrill intensity of the crickets

Infusing life in the shadows

Trying to perk up dormant and wilting hopes.

The polyglot silence

Multi tongued too

Sneering and smiling

And beguiling like a rabble rouser true.

Poking me with its rapier thrusts

Shadow wrestling with the demons of the night

 Who often converge on my terrace with a wicked glee.

Communing with the mute bird hidden   in the tree

Conniving at the coquettery of the crescent moon

 Flirting with the clouds

  Smiling serenely while I watch keenly

And listen to its sounds, ah my heart pounds.

A glow worm shines.

The rabble has been roused.

The silence falls silent and is heard no more.