The Quiet and the Question

Listen please if your ears can hear,
Or if your eyes can see this;
You are fortunate. 

You might not hear it if you don’t listen
A music heard only by seeking the quiet
The highway white noise
The river’s whispers

Oh the sound!
Listen for it in the machines everywhere.
And in the static of wild places
Today it is constant, drone and staccato
Tonight will be wind and the sound of shadow
Carries all voices, purposeful and noiseless

This is the music made for the music makers.
It doesn’t exist, and it does exist too.
Do not forget we are the takers.
That’s all of us, that’s also you.

Music is as old as the click of teeth,
So leave aside the side eye
Beware the snapping jaws of belief
Odds are gods are not like you or I

Or to say it this way, artlessly
Printed money and printed bibles
Are false idols
To prey upon the vain and idle
Who ask for answers but seek not questions

So listen for silence
Pray for more questions
And remember, the sun never rises and sets
It’s just that we are spinning.

If you still need answers answer me this:
How can you trust the ground beneath your feet
Not to shift and slide out into the sea?
You may want to run, but don’t run from me.