Silence Greets Me Poem by Christopher Withers

in futile play, surrounding walls
blink and crawl with darkening day,
relentless waves bruise the light:
it's single source of debarment.
sat and bathed in primal light,
eyes entranced in candles bloom,
senses crushed of standard fare
grasp and latch their least spied prey.
so that now, the music, once obtuse,
entwines me in unknown crescendo,
and in this age of quiet din,
insight gleaned within my reach:
the music ends,
the darkness greets me,
weight of silence fills my mouth,
senses barred forever more.