Movement comes most often without motion

Movement comes most often without motion.
Incremental thaws can peel a rock.
Years wash away the stubbornest emotion,
While silence can the rustiest thought unlock.
There are magic whispers quietly in mourning
That soothe what we will never know as pain,
And songs that come upon us without warning,
Undoing all the buttons that remain.
Our skin is quite a permeable border
Across which strangers freely come and go,
Subversive to our phantom sense of order
Yet never touching what we think we know.
Thus without motion do we silent move
Unknowing, till suddenly we love.