I reached for a sound today,
And found silence waiting for me.
Funny how silence can feel so loud,
The world keeps moving in bright colours,
Laughter spilling out of doorways,
Voices weaving themselves into belonging,
Names spoken easily,
Hands finding hands without searching.
And somewhere, just outside the circle,
A quiet space remains.
Time is a strange collector,
It lets you keep the weight of things,
but steals their edges.
A voice becomes an echo,
A moment becomes a shadow,
A name becomes a feeling you can't quite hold,
only recognise when it passes through you.
Sometimes I wonder, where forgotten sounds go.
Do they dissolve into the air?
Do they settle into walls?
Do they drift somewhere soft, distant,
Waiting for someone who remembers how to listen.
If a memory fades gently enough,
Does it disappear,
Or does it change shape?
And if no one calls you back,
do you become quieter,
or just harder to hear?
#Poetry #poems #amwriting
This poem has also been posted by my other account, @tired_and_wired@mastodon.au