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#drumscymbals
...if we just... (14 lines X 2) (1) There are sounds we dread to hear Yet, we still face and hear them, day by day...like The honking of horns during zero hours...footfalls Briskly walking, rushing...crossing pedestrian lanes Stiletto and pump heels hitting pavements The whistles...screams, calling cabs...catching buses A little further on...there in the park, A band's  drums and cymbals are playing loudly People go through their conversations simultaneously All the bluster of the street....getting through our nerves... And yet...somewhere along those sound waves....traveling In the mix of all those sounds, reverberating There arises some kind of music...there exists a rhythm Which only a few can recognize...and appreciate... (2) Then, there are those who get bored with quietude And find it impossible, to last a day in solitude Where nothing moves....and there's nothing to hear Not a sound from a high definition TV, radio...or a CD player Where voices are hushed...where transparent curtains part To let in a cool breeze...so one may breathe fresh air... These are two different folks...doing different strokes... Why not just disregard folks and strokes, focus, instead...listen hard, Hear the music in quiet spaces, in corners buzzing with activities In every direction, where blows the whirring, or tumultuous wind... If we just open the gates of our hearts and minds...accept, discover, Feel and recognize that song...wooing the tough voices within Then...NO noise, NO place, could be disruptive, or irritating, NO image...NO theory, could ever be abstruse. Sally Copyright April 1, 2016 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 7:08 AM UTC
sally-a-bayan
::: N O I S E :::
...if we just... (14 lines X 2) (1) There are sounds we dread to hear Yet, we still face and hear them, day by day...like The honking of horns during zero hours...footfalls Briskly walking, rushing...crossing pedestrian lanes Stiletto and pump heels hitting pavements The whistles...screams, calling cabs...catching buses A little further on...there in the park, A band's  drums and cymbals are playing loudly People go through their conversations simultaneously All the bluster of the street....getting through our nerves... And yet...somewhere along those sound waves....traveling In the mix of all those sounds, reverberating There arises some kind of music...there exists a rhythm Which only a few can recognize...and appreciate... (2) Then, there are those who get bored with quietude And find it impossible, to last a day in solitude Where nothing moves....and there's nothing to hear Not a sound from a high definition TV, radio...or a CD player Where voices are hushed...where transparent curtains part To let in a cool breeze...so one may breathe fresh air... These are two different folks...doing different strokes... Why not just disregard folks and strokes, focus, instead...listen hard, Hear the music in quiet spaces, in corners buzzing with activities In every direction, where blows the whirring, or tumultuous wind... If we just open the gates of our hearts and minds...accept, discover, Feel and recognize that song...wooing the tough voices within Then...NO noise, NO place, could be disruptive, or irritating, NO image...NO theory, could ever be abstruse. Sally Copyright April 1, 2016 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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