We visit many sound booths each day.
Some reverberate with silence,
others pound noise,
or passing whatevers.
People spout opinions (sometimes it’s me!).
My own mental noise wanders on and on.
The sound of a boss, a friend, a lover, a parent:
perhaps they want something.
In each booth, a frequency holder listens, merely, to the passing energies, to oneself, as they thread themselves through the fabric of being.
In listening, without thought, no judgment abides, and freedom is offerred, like a gift.
