I am listening to silence. And there are layers in it. Once I go beyond the lack of sound, I can hear other things. My own heartbeat. The soft whisper of the fronds of the oak tree in the front yard. Far away noises from the street.
Silence is complex and textured. I can taste it. It tastes clean and crisp, a hint of sweetness lingers on my tongue. It bursts on my tongue like a ripe berry and I swallow it down. I make it a part of me.