Day Three
"I wish the world would be silent now. I wish man would be silent at night. At least out here, where the trees rise dark against the sky.
I wish my heart would be silent now. A yellow moon rises, shines and whispers: "Shush, worry not, be still. I will be here all through the night. Be still, worry not."
The torch is going out, the moon hides behind the trees. An owl hoots in the dark.
I played a few songs 'til the sun had set. I am still playing now, though silently, only plucking a few strings, my voice remains silent. I realize this is my real audience, the audience my songs were written not only for, but actually by. They are my inspiration; water, rock, sky and of course the majestic crowd of pine, oak, ash and elm. They reflect man, they speak of man, as no man can and never will. They are not afraid or prefer not to be reminded of dark and wretched things. These listeners care not. They absorb the music and leave only silence. That is their applaud. Silence. And the beauty of their constant presence.
The moon broke its' promise and went away. I have no light. It is time for me as well to rest. The world is silent now... Save for some engine growling on a farm somewhere, ordered by man to never rest... "
No comments:
Post a Comment