SPOFFORD 104
Can anyone hear me? Does anyone? The lackey
wind throwing the morning about, the mark of
sunlight straddling a horizon or two, the
sound of many motors purring - each of these
things in their minor way make more of
a racket than I ever can. I visit the dead man's
funeral thinking I will hear his sound. But - just
as for myself - no sound comes forth. Now who
can hear that? By definition, is not the world silent?
-
Otherwise, should we not hear the sizzle of the Sun
as it overtakes our places; the broadness of its
yellow light, flaming and pulsing our matter?
That would be sound for all time : the grim
and lofty noise eternity makes. Compared
to that, we are the spittle of an angry
demon's jaw, worth nothing in
the end but our aging,
and our death.
Can anyone hear me? Does anyone? The lackey
wind throwing the morning about, the mark of
sunlight straddling a horizon or two, the
sound of many motors purring - each of these
things in their minor way make more of
a racket than I ever can. I visit the dead man's
funeral thinking I will hear his sound. But - just
as for myself - no sound comes forth. Now who
can hear that? By definition, is not the world silent?
-
Otherwise, should we not hear the sizzle of the Sun
as it overtakes our places; the broadness of its
yellow light, flaming and pulsing our matter?
That would be sound for all time : the grim
and lofty noise eternity makes. Compared
to that, we are the spittle of an angry
demon's jaw, worth nothing in
the end but our aging,
and our death.
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