At night, I can clearly hear
the soundscapes within silence,
the crystal ring of restless
and relentless migrations of winters,
pale moonshines and shadows.
The silhouette of the past
has a remote frequency
inaudible to the ears,
which pounds and vibrates loudly
within each heartbeat.
And within every pulse of emotion,
there is a veil of eternity
that envelops the soul and the memory
into parallel streams of being.
At night, I can hear the turn of the world
and the escaping light of the universe.
It is the space and the stillness
between sleep and wakefulness,
where dreams and reality
vibrate in unison and eternity.
poem & photography by Marco Pignataro