The Message

I'll wait for your message,

I told you, before stepping,

On the bridge of expectations,

The dawn of the next day, 

Like a hungry feral bird perched,

On the branches of the tree of life,

I waited just like I said.

Hours passed by, without a word,

Not a ping, a text, or a soft tone,

In a voice note.

So I kept opening the pages,

Of our yesterday's conversation,

And mumbled with reverence,

The verse of your magnetic beauty.

I will message you tom

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orrow,

Said in a lightning flash, you,

While my heart brimmed with,

Ecstatic emotions, forming bundles.

In the vast wordless ocean 

Of your silence.

As I waited, hoping against hope,

The message dawned on me,

Like a piercing brightness,

From an eclipsed sun,

Sudden, sterile, singular,

That your silence itself is,

The message you wanted,

To engraved upon my morbid being,

Today, at the end,

Of the bridge of expectations.