Noise...

Shocked grass electric dance
Steps that appear and do not lead
Here nor there
Dots of light bounce
Each holding packets
Contents vast
Dots connect but are moving
Spilling contents while containing them
Colors, images, sound...

Sound...
While thinking, there is great noise.  Is thinking an intention on the part of the thinker?  What is the intention of an idea?  Where do supposed random thoughts/ideas come from?  What if the idea(s) as thought cannot be verified by any empirical method?  What if at this level it is just a time of gathering?  A harvest per se.  Silence screams loudly, but not as loudly as the noise.

Books calm the noise but create their own noise in the silence that seems to be only to others.  No one but me hears it.  The silence is only noted by me when I stop reading and take note that THAT sound has ceased and the great noise arises again.  Video to sleep drowns out the noise. ~ Maggie ~ May 4, 2009 @ 2:06 p.m. EST

This was sent to me by a friend from another site and I share it with you.  Of course I could not let well enough alone and had to look up the author.

I just want to share this with a very interesting individual. :)
And then a scholar said, "Speak of Talking."
And he answered, saying:
You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts;
And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime.
And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered.
For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words many indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly.
There are those among you who seek the talkative through fear of being alone.
The silence of aloneness reveals to their eyes their naked selves and they would escape.
And there are those who talk, and without knowledge or forethought reveal a truth which they themselves do not understand.
And there are those who have the truth within them, but they tell it not in words.
In the bosom of such as these the spirit dwells in rhythmic silence.
When you meet your friend on the roadside or in the market place, let the spirit in you move your lips and direct your tongue.
Let the voice within your voice speak to the ear of his ear;
For his soul will keep the truth of your heart as the taste of the wine is remembered
When the color is forgotten and the vessel is no more. ~ Khalil Gibran

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khalil_Gibran