Little musing poem at 2 in the morning because I have inconsiderate flatmates who think noise is best turned up loud.
I wonder at sound.
What is its purpose?
Why does it exist?
Surely since the deaf live without it,
It is not essential to life?
Does it have substance?
Does it have cares?
No, it lives without life.
Then I think of a world without sound,
The silent film, the deaf man's life
And I cannot imagine the absense of music
Of speaking and clapping
Angry slams of doors
Birds singing, wind whistling
Traffic blaring, people caring.
If absense of sound is possible,
Surely it is not pursued in earnest?
If so, take the deaf man and sign to him
That he's not missing much.
Do you sign with truth?
Could you live a life
Devoid of noise,
Devoid of life's voice,
Devoid of sound?