Serenity; a poem

There is nothing, then everything—
a thought drifts like a feather in the silence,
am I the noise, or am I the silence?
perhaps both,
perhaps neither.

The stillness is arresting,
and I melt,
into the quiet,
where even the sharpest edges soften,
and the world sheds its weight.

In this softness, form is forgotten,
boundaries dissolve,
and I drift like snow,
in the space beyond words,
where a pulse whispers gently,
you are more than you know.

The pain of being human dims,
and in its place; ineffable beauty,
serenity I can rest in,
where noise and silence co-exist
on the same invisible stage,
and I am neither,
and I am both.