I’ve heard its gentle humming
through orange lamp lit streets
in buildings checkered with yellow
windows full of life; a whispered
cry to find her, to hold her close,
to know the touch, the name of
another and to be with the known.
So simple, yet so seldom in our
world of studios and headphones.
There is already music if you listen-
but to truly open up one’s ears,
that is, to be truly alive, together.

I’ve heard its gentle nothing
through the greyish trees and the
browning mix of mulch and mud
and leaves that turn from green to
red and back again; a silence
that fills your ears with the music,
names for the world, and for your self.
So simple, yet so seldom in our
world of streets and buildings.
Connection is not lost in isolation-
but to truly hear your own voice,
that is, to be truly alive, alone.

Maybe it wasn’t, but it seems so rare-
they say “closer than ever and further apart”
in this, our world where everyone
in the streets are wearing headphones,
where out buildings are full of studios
so that each may have his own to claim-
to see those who have mastered the
contradiction, to hold the dissonance,
those who have found so much joy-
in being together with themselves,
in being alone with another, that is
to be truly alive, alone, together.

by T. H. Ponders