In the absenteeism of noise
the infinite forage still goes
Hunting from dusk to dawn.
My ear’s to terra firma
In the absence of noise.
The birds have seized singing,
yet my ears keep on ringing.
Small consciousness abound
in the absence of sound.
In the midst of the big hush
It brings forth a kind of rush
I find what can't be found
in the absence of sound.
