Where Silence Reigns

On a mountain high where the cold winds sigh,

A temple rests beneath the sky.

Silent stones and lanterns glow,

Bathed in starlight, soft and slow.

The air is crisp, the night is deep,

Where ancient echoes softly sleep.

Monks in robes with quiet grace,

Move like shadows through the space.

Incense drifts in curling streams,

Mingling with the moon’s pale beams.

A gong resounds, serene and wide,

Time dissolves like flowing tide.

The Milky Way in splendor bright,

A river spilled with silver light.

Reflected in the temple’s eaves,

A sacred song the cosmos weaves.

Wind chimes whisper, rustling leaves,

A melody the night conceives.

In stillness, wisdom gently grows,

Like mountain springs and melting snows.

No walls confine the mind set free,

Just endless sky and boundless sea.

The temple stands, a fleeting spark,

In time’s embrace, both bright and dark.

Here the soul learns not to stay,

But drift like stars and fade away.

No past to bind, no fear, no chains,

Just endless peace where silence reigns.