Silence is never silence. To stop and listen is to realize this. Even with the absence of all other sound, silence has a song of its own. A song so beautiful and melodic, that it disarms the most wound-up of tin soldiers.
The song lifts you and holds you in its arms. It cradles you and keeps you warm. The song whispers in your ear…
Hear it? The song sings its harmony at all times. But it is silence. And silence is to be overwhelmed.
To embrace the song is to know a waking sleep. The tingle in your body lets you know that it is there. Hairs stand to attention as the song trumpets its quiet call. Let yourself ascend as the silence empowers you with sound. You have the loudest roar. You are the maestro. It is your orchestra, so conduct it how you must.
Still, the silence is nice. It is there. The quiet, peaceful, relaxing murmur of nothing is always playing in the background. Silence is the serenade, the mellow mood music to existence. Let the static refrain of tranquility embrace you, for it is invigorating. Sit and let the quiet din of silence gently rock you in its arms, and listen to the hum of its breast.