Listen to the car

air conditioning, engine noise, tick tick of indicators

and all the others on the road

backwards and forwards busy busy

always going someplace


Listen to the people

talking always talking

sometimes good and deep, songs and beauty

sometimes mean and cruel and shouting

often chatter chatter echoing in emptiness


Listen to the wind

flapping of canvas awnings at the farmer’s market

rustling and creaking of trees, grass

leaves and small stones hop skipping along the ground


Listen to the birds

chirping, cooing, cawing

each making its own unique sound

and flurry of wing flapping as they rise into the air


Listen to the insects

hum and drone in the garden

faint scurry among the undergrowth

backwards and forwards busy busy

on insect business


Listen to the footsteps

crunching on gravel and swish through the grass

trickle of water showering onto thirsty plants

snick of secateurs cutting and pruning


Listen to the cat

demanding meows then purrs of content

listen to fingers tap tapping on the keyboard

listen to the fan blowing cool air through


Listen to my breath

in and out, measuring life

through the long count of heartbeats


Listen to the silence that isn’t silent

with hopes and fears and dreams shouting for attention

There’s no such thing as silence

Just listen.

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