The Sound of Silence

In the darkness of my living room with no early natural morning light and illuminated by a small candle’s flickering flame, I reflected upon Seattle’s photographer, Conor Musgrave’s shot of Kerry Park, where tourist trickle in Ten thousand people, maybe more.

An earworm burrowed in my head with the words of the opening of Simon & Garfunkel’s song,
The Sound of Silence:

Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

Paul Simon wrote this song is a time of turbulence and a time of change.  The lyrics continued to resonate within my head as I starred through the photograph and imagined standing alone in the silence of the early morning light, wondering do I belong in Seattle… no more but where would I go? There is no open door.

Lost in my desert as I thirst throughout the day as the sun pounds down up the pavement through the drizzle of Seattle rain, I slowly move forward step-by step as more lyrics permeate my brain.

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sounds of silence…

I will go on my way and look up, look out, look inward and not look to a false idol but to my God without display and silently pray.

May each of us find our way in the change of each today.