What is sound?
what is to hear?
how many echoes color the air?
and how many sounds exist in a moment?

Cluster of dyes
mountains of frequencies
The abyss being flooded
with organized symphonies
and disorganized feeling seas.

Sound is a blind thunder,
a fire in the ear,
a mouth that pronounces your name,
and the expression of what is alive.

By the wind it runs furious
to inevitably dilute to infinity
like that first sound you heard
at the beginning of today.  

It is the magic
of those who close their eyes
and the betrayal of bare feet steps
hugging you by surprise.

Sound is also silence.
Without silence,
the sound would have no name,
and this poem
would not have been made.

*- Fc.