Layers

In the abandoned cliffs of a faraway land

There is a steep, rocky path which one can take through treacherous territory

To a small ledge which sits high above the surrounding forest and empty countryside

Sitting upon this stone outcropping all the noises of humanity are infinitely far

Not just over the horizon but over the next one, and the one after

As if in a dream, an empty world stretches on forever

The noises of man fall away.

Unmuffled, birds chirp.

Bushes rustle in the breeze. The breeze itself brushes upon my ears, its ethereal rumbling the only sure way to know I am here

My world is green and gray and blue and white

Moss grows and dies; the rocks themselves are as people, staring imperiously down on all that lies below

Loudest of all is the silence.

 

In this world without man, uncompromising silence is the bedrock to which reality is anchored.

Listening in, there is no buzz and no hum.

Man’s works serve only to hide and obscure.

What then, is truly the dream?

Stationary upon silence eternal,

Value and worth themselves

Fall away.

Leaving only

The barest

Essence:

I am.