A lovely sight

Were this a time to question a lovely wind,
A silence, a mystery, for which I penned,
There'd be what binds me to the ground,
to inquire what may dare become of sound,
For within an unknown I hath slept,
and early times has love come end, true I wept,
with no more crowd than a single man,
beside me closeth been the sky in thy hands,
and as a wonder, thou hast taken my interest,
and here I stand with observation so earnest,
In this time and time again, behind these walls we meet, 
Within this reach I rest me an equal mystery,
under which light, who's penned I cannot say,
If this may find thou heart, thou eyes shall find the way.