Sound in Sound out

What sound do you hear in your ear?

What sounds spill from your mouth?

How much energy does it take?

Why do you speak?

Is the intention for connection?

Or, isn’t the intention for connection?

What do you truly wish for, beyond what’s right here?

I gaze into my black cup, filled with coffee,

seeing my reflection,

my glasses perched on my nose,

mirrored at the bottom of the cup.

I sip and write,

surrounded by the café’s hum,

coffee drinkers lost in endless

babble,

babble,

babble.

We are together,

drawn to this shared buzz of social connection.

We make noise with our mouths and listen with our ears,

like whales gathering in the deep,

seeking safety,

comfort,

And love.

Mammals.

—we crave the company of others, be it,

ultimately

a

reflection

of

ourselves.

Open mouths,

sound in,

sound out.

Rain falls outside the window

as I stare out,

coffee cup in hand.

What if we spoke without fear?

I wonder.

Nothing might change—maybe a deeper connection,

or disconnection within connection,

or perhaps something more.

A man with a big smile,

his hair grey with the wisdom of the years passes by.

He steps onto the stage and says,

“Excuse me,” to the two women chatting beside me,

perched on stools along the live-edge wooden table.

“May I take the paper? I need the living section

for my daily crossword puzzle,” he says.

“Do you know that every day is great?” His smile widens.

The women, shining with the same wisdom,

laugh with him and reply,

“Yes…

—just put your feet on the floor

—every day is great.”