It is quiet in my home,
or so it seems.
All but me are sleeping,
and I can hear the sound
of my fingers on the keyboard.
However, it is when I stop
and listen
that I hear the sounds
which allude me when I am
not listening.
or so it seems.
All but me are sleeping,
and I can hear the sound
of my fingers on the keyboard.
However, it is when I stop
and listen
that I hear the sounds
which allude me when I am
not listening.
I sit in silence and
I begin to hear
the symphony
which can only play
in the silence.
It is when I hear the vibrations
which come from the percussions
in my home.
it is when I hear the tones of the brass
brass
the sounds of the strings, and
the magic of the woodwinds.
I begin to hear
the symphony
which can only play
in the silence.
It is when I hear the vibrations
which come from the percussions
in my home.
it is when I hear the tones of the brass
brass
the sounds of the strings, and
the magic of the woodwinds.
it is when I hear the elements
of air as they wash over my home.
it is when I hear the
snow melting off my roof.
it is when I hear the sound
of the furnace sending heat
through my home.
it is in the silence that I hear
the plants and trees singing
a song of their own as they
dance with the environment.
of air as they wash over my home.
it is when I hear the
snow melting off my roof.
it is when I hear the sound
of the furnace sending heat
through my home.
it is in the silence that I hear
the plants and trees singing
a song of their own as they
dance with the environment.
it is in the silence
that I hear all things
the tones,
the chords,
the harmony
and the music of creation.
that I hear all things
the tones,
the chords,
the harmony
and the music of creation.
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