bees in the lavender
earl grey tea in a delicate cup
a stack of books to read
dreaming with a dear friend
the bushes appear empty now, winter-wasted
but i see the rose wishing in their tangles, the summer in their sleep.
There is such a quietness here today, I can hear old song sighing across the plain. Unfortunately, I live in a place where the Hum is strongly audible, and some days it is quite annoying. I'd not experienced it before moving here; infact, I didn't even know there was such a thing as a Hum. When it gets particularly aggravating, I cover it with music; however, music affects me quite strongly, so I don't like to play it all the time.
(Lately I have been listening to Fleurie and dreaming grand stories of old, empty mansions and rose enchantments and the longing in the dark. I can not listen to her music while reading or doing housework, as it fills me with such drama that it's hard to go on being ordinary.)
Peace isn't always about the cessation of sound. I experience it best when there's rain, or a wild wind through trees. Living in a house which has no trees nearby offers little peace, for all that the neighbourhood is usually very quiet. In the quiet I hear the Hum as perhaps I wouldn't with the whispering of leaves to shelter me. Peace is the natural world unfolding as it ought.
Have you ever heard the Hum?