The moon slipped off her silver veil,
left it draped upon the sea,
while stars grew quiet, one by one,
and night released its final plea.
No farewell spoken,
no curtain drawn—
just silence
soft enough to float.
Then—
a shimmer.
A thread of light
pulled gently from the distant shore,
and all the hush that held the dark
was asked to sing once more.
The wind moved softly through the trees,
its fingers whispering the leaves,
each branch a hush, each leaf a sigh—
a language only stillness reads.
A cuckoo called.
A wave replied.
The crickets bowed with tender grace.
The gulls traced hymns across the blue,
as if they’d dreamed the night with you.
A lone crab etched along the shore,
its trail a line the sea adored—
And I—
I stood within it all,
no name, no need, no grand decree,
just heart laid bare beside the sea—
and knew
they all sang
for me.
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