the framing of silence

when the framing of silence is gone,

the listening for abraded interruptions

loses its cutting-edge of sharp contrasts.

what then to do with one's attention.

it wasn't the silence

that listening was apprehensively approaching.

it was for the lack of sound being present,

the lack of clear recognition presenting.

so again,

what then?

only to discover one's limited range of audio perception,

done as the transmission of recognition?

what is the insanity of no sound?

what if the soundless chamber for a hearing person

is the next sound not heard?

imagine no sight,

no salvia,

no touch,

no sense of weight

as opposed to weightlessness,

the void of input abounding.

how silent would that all be?

what mind a drift,

paddling along on inner conversation's riffs

until that realization 

of soundless inner conversation approaches.

then, overwhelmed by mutedness presenting,

deep thought without all of the jabber

soon, self, traveling in incomplete sentences,

less and less articulation to sensible comprehension.

just loud silence 

as if blaring across dimensions untold.

how well for then,

to know oneself beyond the narrative.

is this then when emotions have wings?

is this when personality seems so facade?

does this feel more like a stream

that has never had a sense of banks or bottom?

could one have ever wished

to be able to speak the truth

of this place from within?

in the normal light of day,

with the blaring of sound, 

intimately woven through it?

so what would silence, from there,

when spoken,

have to speechlessly say ? . . .