With a nod to that other Paul Poet
What is the sound of silence?
What is silence?
Do we find it in the city?
Is it in the country.
Where do we find silence.
Silence is not in the absence of sound,
But in the absence of noise.
Silence is in the sound of the rain on the roof,
Drumming its gentle rhythm making its own song.
Washing the earth ,cleansing refreshing and renewing
Silence is in the wind as it makes its way through the trees.
Softly shaping and sweeping as it moves , swaying and moving so that which is invisible is revealed.
Moving to its own rhythm making it’s own music singing its own song, dancing its own ballet
Silence is in the melody of the chorus of the birds at dawn,
Signalling a new day and new beginning,
bursting with hope and anticipation, celebrating with an absolute hope and lack of care.
There is silence in the sounds of the cicada,
with fecund enthusiasm it calls to the earth that it is there,
it’s staccato rhythm celebrating it’s short life with wild abandon.
There is silence in the sounds of nature.
There is silence in my heart when I need to find my quiet place.
My redemption from the hurt of life, the frustrations,
Yet in this quiet place it is not the absence of sound that makes it so.
I can hear my heart beating, telling me I am alive celebrating that whilst I draw breath I have hope.
(c) Paul Cronin 2012