The Silence Of Sound

Does noise occur in vacant emptyness;
when no one is around;
would music, itself, no longer bless;
with none to hear its sound?

We ride the waves of light and sound;
surfing their ebb and flow;
we envision ourselves on solid ground;
for our mind tells us it’s so.

We gaze upon swirling winds and storm;
as tho they’re outside expressions;
created in the image of the Master’s form;
our thoughts have their own impressions.

Most think they look at an outside world;
a place where we come and then go;
reality is thought energy, coming unfurled;
more complex than any could know.

Many think death is the silence of sound;
but the joy of music still remains;
death merely exposes secrets to be found;
mystery is what death contains.

Sound is the embellishment of thought;
for those who have ears to hear;
by vacuous winds, words are brought;
and none, will ever disappear.

We’re instruments in the infinite concert;
where all forms of sound begin.
Where would the feast be, without dessert;
or the concert, without the violin.

Monty 9/2/22. # 1,273