There is no silence like the silence

There is no silence like the silence
    of books in the early morning 

      when no one else is around:

It's a yearning silence

    like that of slowly opening doors.

        What is on the other side?

Sometimes it is the vast silence

    of alien worlds and sometimes

        the gentle silence of sleeping children.

At times, it is a jagged silence

    caught on the indrawn breath

        before a scream.

The silence of some books

    is made of the pauses

       in rhythm.

The silence of love, of loss,

    of hate, of consequence, of justice,

        of numbers, of philosophy, of planets...

There is no silence like the yearning

    of books in the early morning

        before anyone has opened them

looking for light.