The Sounds of The Universe

We plunge into the unknown,

Opening our minds to the mysteries.

Delving farther, forever drifting.

Enveloped now, as we are, by lasting quiet,

We know that there’s more to come.

                                     

Breaking the pressing silence is first,

The mirthful laughter of innocent youth.

Then the crushing cries of harsh realities.

Mixing, blending and tumbling through the mist.

 

They echo softly, bouncing off the walls in sweet, sweet melancholy.

Then there’s the sudden rush of icy water,

And the daring strike of a match in darkness.

Listen now…

 

Beneath the raucous, the ravaging sound.

A constant murmer lies…

 That of whispered voices,

And the crisp turning of a fresh page.

 

Further still is the endless ticking…

One-two, Three-Four.

 One-two, Three-Four.

All night, all day. Never ending.

 

Hear now the howling of winds far and wide.

The gentle rustle of leaves,

And the voices that whisper…/ One-two, Three-Four.

Pages are turning/ One-two, Three-Four.

 

Faster and faster now does the clock tick,

And pages are torn, turning in their binding.

Howling winds combine with maniacal laughter.

The waters are rushing, gurgling.

The fires are raging, roaring.

The ticking clock now a thunderous war drum;

One-two, Three-Four.

One-two, Three-Four.

Till at the crack of dawn…

Everything stops,

And the only sound… echoing in the silence now,

Is that of a book, slammed shut.