WHAT is silence?
A lack of noise?
The shutting off of devices? Ideas? Expectations?
An abundance of sounds, usually ignored?
That don’t require a wifi signal?
That
chirp,
coo,
screech,
crack,
crunch,
sizzle,
thwack and
say “good morning”?
WHY is silence
so fragile,
easily broken by the innocent rustling of leaves
or oblivious ramblings of a bluetooth user?
So deafening,
amplified by
the absence of noise
or aftershocks
triggered by years of exposure to
LOUD music?
LOUD thoughts?
LOUD demands?
Even necessary
when there are so many audiobooks,
podcasts,
playlists,
birds,
Ideas,
conversations,
versions of the wind
to listen to?
HOW is silence
ever possible
when the hum of the city rumbles beneath us,
a constant reminder of what
has been done,
is being done,
will be done?
Ever comforting
when it shuts out inspirational podcasts and the theme from Rocky,
forcing confrontations with beliefs we try to conceal
and demanding we notice limits:
jagged breathing,
cramping calves
and that damn left knee with the bone spur that haunts marathon dreams?
WHEN does silence
urge us to forget?
the assumptions
and obligations
that anchor us too firmly to our Selves?
Invite us to remember
our generosity and capacity
to open
our ears to the mysterious echoes under the bridge?
our eyes to the sun as it dances on the river?
our lungs to the breath that moves through us,
in and out
in and out
in and out,
connecting us to the universe?
WHICH silence is noise?
and which one is sound?