~My Thoughts in Poetic Verses~

It's Quiet

It's quiet.

The world I am surrounded by has somehow been muted and not an ounce of a living thing can be heard for a hundred miles.

Salutations from the breath in my lungs to the beat of my heart are the only things left to fill my ears, but they too have been coined into faint muffles.

This is a moment of utter peculiarness as I have never felt more absent or completely present as I do now.

The ever present wind takes the leaves and branches in a dance that makes them shimmer and wave gracefully all around me, and yet, there is still no sound.

The air feels softer and moves around my head like small waves as I float in all of its comforting wrappings around my drifting body.

Such a silence leaves only room for amplified questions in my head.

Questions that are answered, not by my open mouth, but by a low hum in the distance.

My senses train themselves like blood hounds onto the jagged stones and bundles of brush that fill the open space to separate the silence from sound.

Resounding questions continue to imprint themselves deep into the forefront of my thoughts:

Can the abundance of nothing lead to the small creation of something?

Can the knowledge of silence lead to the imagination of sound?

A twig snaps, cutting through the air like a fresh sword through timid flesh; it is closer than before.

An itching sense crawls its way through each nerve of my fingertips as the sounds crawl themselves toward my residual spot between the trees.

Lower hums than before become the forefront sounds of a dangerous tune while dragging through the last pieces of brush ahead of my feet.

Screeching yells of birds tip-toeing on the curling branches above balance the growing depth in hums as they approach even closer.

Curling together with eyes shut, the overriding of my previously deprived sense of hearing is ripping the once comforting bandages of silence from my body and filling my ears with vibrations of air that feel like acid.

Hums and screeches scorch at my skin until they grow so near that I am left to do nothing but be consumed.
.
.
.

The hums have gone and light pulls of wind on my still body nestle it in a lull of a pressing eternal rest.

Once again the world I am surrounded by has somehow been muted and not an ounce of a living thing can be heard for a hundred miles.

Goodbyes from the breath in my lungs to the beat of my heart are the only things left to fill my ears, but they too have become faded muffles.

It's quiet.