Serenity; a poem

There is nothing, then everything,
a thought drifts like a feather in the silence,
are we the noise, or 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 the pulse of life throbs,
you are more than you know.

The pain of being human dims,
and in its place; ineffable beauty,
serenity one can rest in,
where the heart stirs
with the remembrance of he who never left,

where noise and silence co-exist
on the same invisible stage,
and we are neither,
and we are both
and I surrender