Some days there’s so much noise around me I think I’m going to lose my mind. Noise from thoughts, caterwauling from the kids, traffic, horns, sirens, TV, radio and so on. Some days I long for silence; to retreat into an inner sanctum, where there’s respite from the onslaught of the world. Meditation helps, and so does playing the violin. Sometimes I long to hear the sound of your voice. But sometimes only silence will do…
THE SOUND OF SILENCE
The sound of silence, substrate of creation…
Noise of nothingness filling, expanding senses,
Priming them to detect violent vibrations,
Scales of dainty decibels, sonorous caresses.
Listen well; distinguish subtle intonations,
Auditory input on waves of turbulent air,
A tendency to love pulsing impressions,
Emanating forth, emulating, wishing to share…
Silence surrounds; the base note of existence…
Without that peace, would I appreciate sound?
Lilting of inner voice, harmony not dissonance,
A palette on which to speak, sing and listen is profound.
Silence: a constant companion, blank canvas for music,
The space between notes, said Claude Debussy,
Clasping violin, I perform my favourite acoustic,
Exploring the infinite waters of a fathomless sea.
Sounds can nourish – biting into crunchy apple,
Or jangle cells, like long finger nails on a blackboard,
The terrifying cacophony of war, sound of battle,
Some are sweet, like a lover’s kiss, desired, adored.
Some are jolting, startling – a sudden, strident scream,
Soft tears of God; comforting, steady rain drops,
Splashing onto Earth, in relentless, rhythmic stream,
Solace for my soul, time to ponder, until it stops.
Sounds carry me to exotic, far flung places,
Where turbulent waves crash over distant lands,
Creatures howl and cry, endless echoes, many faces,
Inaudible grains of sand slip through my hands.
Floating on a breeze, flowers whisper the joy of scent,
Icy, cruel winds have their own sharp language,
Thunder fulminates across quivering landscapes, spent,
Hear my heartbeat; primordial thud – free from anguish.
Life force emanates from all that is – eternal silence,
Out of the divine shroud a rustle, a breath: quiet, loud,
Familiar sounds bond to heart, enable resilience,
Earth’s endless maelstrom, amorphous as clouds.
Energy fields to immerse in, align with…
No tone goes unheard by the universe,
Flight – the whirring of gossamer wings will give,
A soprano’s broken heart, on an audience does disperse.
Silence sets the stage, from birth to old age,
In-tune with tranquil Self, absorb oscillations,
To travel down memory lane, from same page,
Exulting in emotions of pitch and modulation.
Healing human wounds, retreating back to source,
Stillness resides there, diaphanous spark of essence,
Surrender to the vibrations, relinquish force,
Return always, into the sound of silence…
By Virginia Burges