A shadow stirs beheath the quiet sky,
A whisper slips through, though I don’t know why.
Is it a storm or just a gentle breeze,
A height that deepens or a fleeting ease?
It lingers close, then drifts away,
A question echoes, yet none can say.
Do I follow where the silence leads,
Or stand back, fearing the deeper falls?
In the hollow, something stirs below—
A hidden truth, or a wound to show?
Do I embrace what I cannot see,
Or turn away, and let it be?