Silence Pt. 2: On my relationship with nature.

Silence Without

We call this space silence:

a red stone in the middle of a rainforest.

One square inch.

We call this space silence and solitude

but in my quiet

all I hear is song.

Duets of whistling sopranos.

Tuning my breath

to the pitch of the breeze.

We call this space silence and solitude

ignoring the voices

of streams rolling over rock

of crunching leaves beneath padded paws

of psithurism

of our own heart and breath.

A square inch we call silence:

a red stone.

But even stones have a pulse.

---

Silence is the suppression of songs

We do not know the lyrics to

of sounds that are voices

speaking in languages

we have decided

have no translation.

Of vibrations

reverberations

resonance

that beat in a time

not measured by our watches.

Our world is becoming noisier.

Our minds becoming louder.

The earth becoming quieter.

Beaks clicking

wings vibrating

jaws snapping

water whistling.

Crackles amongst the corals.

The resonance of stone.

The barking-growling-whimpering-howling.

This biological symphony

playing to an empty amphitheater.

Sound is the vibration of the heartstring of life.

---

How many verses left

in the powerful play?

Do not go silent

But invite the quiet.

Who is waiting to be heard?