Sound of Silence

Your fingers falter on the keyboard. A solfeggio exercise is undeniably a useless endeavor that can only exasperate. The metronome's rhythmic allegro mocks your sluggish notes with impunity.

Then Redemption. A nondescript musical notation called a rest gives you pause.

A large SILENCE library sign. Even a Time Out. They re-calibrate the frenzy of the moment. They make you stop, so you can listen to your mind think.

Siesta perks up the senses. It enables you to hear a gecko's suctioned feet slyly traversing the ceiling toward a corner hideaway.

Quiet Time sharpens your awareness. It makes you attentive to the flirty brushing of the wind against a sentinel of grass.

Time Alone lets you discern the voice that pleads for your heart to beat again.

Particularly in the season of advent, the Sound of Silence can be eloquently powerful. A summons to ponder the Light of Light descending from the realms of endless day.

Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence. Christ our God to earth descendeth, Our full homage to demand.