silence is just a loud unpronounced whisper
the heat coming from listening up close overwhelms
I am in a shower of my tears forthcoming
they will sing what I can’t say in words
they will bellow somehow
from beyond the insignificance of space
it is beyond auditory as resonate vibrational
I don’t have ears for it but my cells listen up
I am a sound chamber
and a broadcast in the divine
my attention is only small mindedness on alert
that I come back to you with words
is only the eavesdrop
as a sampling from discovery
what has always been, when freshly conscious
seems like an unearthing of self,
previously unknown
and know can feel like a press pass of permission
when all is sound,
though somewhat disguised
sight, even internal,
seems to justify the livingness
sip from my aura,
then sample from your own
it is all from the same ocean of oneness
silence is its evaporative means . . .
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