The Silence of the Sky and the Ocean

A scene of a story I hope to write one day. It doesn't have much context, but there is enough in there to make sense of what its about. Enjoy!

Would you believe me if I told you that I’ve stood at the edge of the world, contemplating nothing but the idea that perhaps silence is the greatest song ever composed?

I’m not talking about the pause’s after periods that give lines meaning. Nor the empty silence when you blow out you’re candles and close your eyes to rest, where the quiet of the night soothes your troubled thoughts into dreams of better times of less lonely nights. Nor the silence that follows a goodbye, the kind of goodbye that means nothing.

 

But I’m talking about the silence after a goodbye that leaves you speechless. That leaves your heart heavy and your mind frantically searching for something else to say, clutching at stray thoughts or some small idea that would give cause for them to stay for a few moments more. The silence that stretches, pulling at your heart, that either coaxes a smile from your lips or tears from your eyes depending on the nature of the goodbye. A silence that leaves you longing.

 

I’m talking about the silence’s that settle on you. Silences that hang in the air " thick, as if you can feel yourself breathing them in. The silence that finds you, waiting in bed, eyes searching the shadows for monsters you know must be there. The silence that leaves you breathless, when the fingers of darkness snuff out the last bit of light, and leaves your heart pumping, waiting to see what happens next. Leaves you praying that sleep finds you before they do.

The silence between two lovers, who against all odds found each other. That in a world of differences they somehow found similar feelings. The silence that follows the long days, where the world sends little things to slowly chip away at your resolve. That around each corner gravity seemed to get a bit stronger weighing you down to the point that when the day finally comes to a close, you feel as though you have been carrying the world on your shoulders.

And yet despite the difficulties of their day, they are there to pick you up. They are there to help with the weight, to wipe the tears off your cheeks and tell you that on your worst days you look the most beautiful. And so heads pressed together, you whisper three words, and they smile and hold you closer, hands tangled in your hair and lips mere inches from yours. They let the silence say more than words ever could.

 

I knew a boy who lived in silence. I found him sitting by the beach, staring at the water, still, as if imagining what it would be like to have waves crash into the sand. Hear them rumble and roar, feel the power and energy crash into the surface. Feel the waves try and sweep you off your feet, as if it were its only chance to do so. It was as if he had seen them before.

But only the gods know how long it’s been since the ocean sent waves to the shore.

 

So we sat, in a quiet that let us appreciate one another’s company, but respected it too much to ruin it by unwanted small talk. It reminded me of a story he told me once. It was nothing higher than a whisper, but it carried across the distance between us like the breeze. It licked my skin and tousled my hair, making me feel it more than hear it.

 

He told me of gods " the five gods, working together to let the world grow and prosper, and to give balance to man, who sought so desperately to corrupt it.

He said we already knew of the god of the sun, who was bold and fierce, and provided life and growth to the earth.

He said we already knew the goddess of the moon, who lit the skies at night, when darkness tried so desperately to take over. She was gentle and calm, and provided healing and hope to the weak and the ill.

He talked of the goddess of the forest, and her sacrifices to let man grow and flourish, and the god of the ocean, who was quiet and often lonely, though he loved like no other.

And finally he talked of the goddess of the sky. Though he didn’t say much of who she was or what she was like, it was obvious it pained him to mention her.

 

“What happened to her, the sky?” I asked, my voice loud enough to make sure he heard me, but soft enough that it didn’t trail any further than his ears.

He didn’t look at me, but instead he shifted his gaze to the horizon, as if it held the answer he was looking for. Whether or not he could see into that darkness was beyond me, but regardless, staring off into nothing in particular, he spoke.

 

“’Long ago, before the moons were shattered and the gods had sent their children to walk amongst men, there were more than just five gods.’”

His voice was what you would expect of a child his age, slightly higher pitched and nowhere near as rough as most men’s. But it was lacking something, that air of innocence that was found within most children these days. That small fraction of hope and wonder that so deeply reside in the chest of the youth, as if the world hasn’t shown them its evil, twisted side.

But his was lacking. It left it sounding hollow and empty, and made me wonder just how much a young boy of his age could have lost.

 

‘There were hundreds, each with brothers and sisters, all contributing to some element of society. There were gods of metal and stone, of food and wine. Some would say there were too many… Most being those of mortal birth. Although there were few gods who believed it too, it was the joint effort of them and man that started the Purge War.

The war went on for years. Death, destruction, despair. Cities were broken, kings were lost, and the earth that was once whole became fractured. Centuries of progress lost in a matter of years, and just like cities, even gods can crumple.

 

And so for years after the breaking of the earth, fire seeped from its wounds like blood. But like most wounds, time heals all, and as the last five gods stood amongst their own destruction, they each declared peace, and amidst the tatters of a broken world, we rebuilt.

 The ocean and the sky worked together to raise the sea, helping to put out the flames that leaked from the earth. The forests grew over its wounds, using her roots to knit them together until they were nothing more than scars, and with the light from the sun and moon, the forests regrew, and civilization restarted.

 

And yet amidst all that destruction and desolation, love, like trees and flowers, sprouted and bloomed between the ocean and the sky.

He found her crying one night, after hearing her voice in the wind. It had been nearly a decade since peace had been declared, yet how far civilization had come made it seem like decades. Cities had been re-risen, crops and farms regrown, yet here he found her, crying as if no one was listening.

 

He didn’t say much, if not anything at all, for the ocean is often quiet. But sometimes words aren’t needed, and for then and there his company was more than enough. So she opened up to him, told him of how man, built from greed and lust for power, who so quickly turned on each other in the midst of battle and war, can turn around so easily and fall in love with one another. How some can love more than one person, knowing full well that it would hurt someone else. And how when they look up, all they ever see is the sun, beaming back at them, or the moon, who watches over them whilst they sleep. She sobbed of how she only brings storms that bring floods, or winds that scare them into their homes. She said when they hear here howling through their windows they shut her out, and when she tries to touch them with her breeze they pull there cloaks tighter around them. She said that she understands they may not realize, but none the less it hurts all the same.

 

She was silent for some time after that, with a silence that settled over them slowly, like falling snow, and it was the ocean that spoke next.

 

‘I know what it feels like to feel unappreciated’ he whispered, scared to scare of off the silence that draped over them. ‘My waters are too salty for humans to drink without getting sick. They’d much rather go to lakes than to me. But why should I value the opinions of those who choose to ignore me?’

He gently took her hand, whispering ‘follow me’, and led her to the beach. There they stared out across the water, much like I and the young boy are right now. He asked her what she saw, and she responded with nothing. “Exactly” he said. “If you judge people based off of looks alone, you will find you barely scratch the surface of who they are. Now look closely”. And she did. And it was then she saw the dark shapes zipping just below the surface.

‘What someone sees as nothing could mean everything to somebody else. Whilst man choose to drink anywhere else, these fish and sea creatures can’t live anywhere else. I give them the ability to live, and in return they love me for it unconditionally, and I them, for they make up who I am.

 

You want to know what it feels to be beautiful?’ he said whispered whilst gesturing to the water. ‘Look through my eyes and I will show you.’

 

And so she did, peering deep into the surface, searching what he meant. Ripples scattered the water, make the image unclear, but as it settled out she saw what he did. A perfect reflection of who she was.

She saw the clouds, hanging lazily in the air, swirling and twisting into shapes no one had ever seen before. Each unique to their own, and although there were hundreds, none were the same.

She saw the birds, gliding across the sky, spinning and diving.

She saw the breeze, carrying leaves gently tumbling through the air, giving them a chance to feel what it’s like to fly instead of being grounded to their branches.

But most importantly, she saw herself. Not for who she thought she was, but for what she thought she wasn’t.

 

Tears threatened to leak from her eyes once more, like the moments of silence before a storm.

The ocean smiled at her, the kind of smile that came as naturally as the waves. “Don’t cry my love’ he said, taking her hand in both of his, his smile stretching further across his face. ‘You look ugly when you cry”.

Silence stretched between them, and for the first time in months she laughed. Like a thunderclap it boomed, echoing across the surface of the water, startling sharks and scattering schools of fish. It was a laugh that made you feel good hearing it, and although it lasted a while, when she was finished, tears once again had streaked down her cheeks, yet for the first time in a decade, they were of joy.

 

She sighed into a smile, one just as lazy as the clouds in the sky, and from that day on her eyes sparkled, though only just for him.

If you ever want to see what it looks like to watch someone fall in love, look no further than this moment. For the ocean was still, the sky was smiling, and they were both happy together.

 

But alas jealousy is a disease that plagues even the gods.

 

The Sun watched as the Ocean and the Sky were pulled toward one another like the tide, and the closer they edged towards one another, the hotter his jealousy burned, for the sun was too hot to love anyone, and space is an ever-lonely place.

 

So slowly, over the course of a year the sun burned brighter each day, but not so much to get caught, and slowly the Ocean evaporated away. But the Sky and Ocean were too preoccupied with one another to realize what the sun was doing, and didn’t notice that the Ocean was slowly wasting away before it was too late.

Then Ocean started to get sick, and by the time they saw what the Sun had done, it was too late.

 

‘Why are you doing this?!’ cried out the Sky as she held her love in her arms. ‘We’ve had peace for ten years and he has done nothing to you.’ She slumped over the Ocean as he gasped softly for breath, his body pale and weak, sweat beading on his forehead. ‘For the first time in years I’m finally happy’ she sobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

The Sun said nothing for a time, and as he stared down at the Sky and her Ocean, he spoke. ‘We made peace for mankind, not ourselves. We brought balance and hope to them, we told them we would rebuild the earth and maintain it. But since you two have been spending so much time together, the crops are dying of thirst from the lack of rain, the fish have stopped swimming so close to our shores for fisherman to catch. We don’t have the comfort of loving one another, so why should you.’

 

‘You’re jealous’ cried the Sky, ‘because no one has ever loved you. Because people burn when you touch them too long, they can’t even bear to look at you for more than a few seconds lest they go blind. I know what it’s like to be ignored and hated, and so does the Ocean. Please, if you stop this, if you save him, we can love you too.’

 

The Sun stared down silently, watching the tears roll from the Sky’s eyes. ‘It’s too late’ he murmured softly, and with that he turned and left.

The Sky looked up across the sea and found it had died up completely. She could see the fish dead on the dried, cracked floor, some still dancing wildly, begging for a drink that would never come. She saw seaweed and coral gasping; she saw sharks and stingrays resting motionlessly. But more importantly, she saw that everything she had ever loved was dead before her eyes. And as she looked down into her arms, she found that her Ocean was now dead too.

 

For hours, she wailed. She sobbed and screamed, begged for forces she knew didn’t exist to help her. She begged for the lakes to lend some water, but they stayed silent. She begged for man to help her bury him, but they did not hear.

All she was left with was a broken heart, and a body that went cold a long time ago.

 

And then the storms came.

 

Storms so violent it crumpled villages. Rain, thunder, lightning. Hail pelted against houses and windows as the Sky lashed out at those who did not care. Cities flooded, forests burned, and all the while the other gods did nothing but watch, whilst the sun was nowhere to be seen.

Some thought it out of regret, that the Sun couldn’t bear to see what he had driven her to do. Some would claim him a coward. But regardless, for two weeks the storms swelled and bellowed, and for two weeks the world did not have light.

 

And by the end of it the Sky had cried so much that the sea had filled up. However, when he opened his eyes and breathed in the fresh air, the Sky was nowhere to be seen.

He asked the moon where she went, yet she did not respond. She asked the forest why there were burning trees and collapsed villages, but she said nothing. And when the Sun finally returned, and the Ocean asked him what happened, the Sun only said she had gone away, and was never coming back.

 

The Ocean later found out what happened, what the Sky had done for him. What she had given up and what it had cost her. From that day on the Ocean did not stir. No waves. No love. For all the fish were dead, and with it the only love he ever knew.

He not only lost what made him who he was, but everything he ever loved too.”

 

It was then I realized that the boy was crying. His sobs echoed across the silence, skipping off the still water in front of us. I felt tears roll down my own cheeks too, but I did not sob. For this was the young boy’s loss, not my own, and one should always be aware of the people more upset than themselves.

So, I rested my hand on his shoulder, not saying a thing. For just like the Ocean many years ago, sometimes words are not needed, and then and there, my company was more than enough.

 

After a time when his sobs had died down and his tears had long dried up, I spoke.

“You once told me the sky used to sing” I whispered, my voice sending ripples across the surface of that silence that settled back down between us. I scanned his face for any sign that he heard me, and after a few moments I saw a weak smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

Not a smile of when someone remembers something funny, or one of joy. The best way I could describe it is if a musician were to give up his craft for years, forced to live in a world without music. Without that part of him that he let culture and flourish into something that defined him. And then one day, he catches the melody of his favourite song on the wind. It’s a smile of remembering a time long past, and of memories that were thought to be long forgotten.

I waited patiently as his smile crept further and further across his face. His shoulders seemed to slump a bit lower, his body seeming to relax in a way it hadn’t in years, as if smiling was a face he had forgotten how to wear.

“What did she sound like?”

 

It’s strange, being so close to water and not being able to hear it. You would think there would be soft sounds of water running, or wind whistling. But as the water was perfectly still, and the wind hadn’t moved for years, it left a silence that could only be described as deafening.

 

And in that stillness, in that peace and calm, the boy looked to the Sky, and taking a deep breath, the ocean began to sing.

  

The bards believe that in this world, we are made up of nothing but sound and noise. They believe that we all have a song within us that defines us as to who we are. That no matter how far we stray, or how lost we get, there will always be the song inside us that acts as an anchor, pulling us back to reality and who we are. And once we get there, then we will know peace, it’s just a matter of finding it.

 

When the Ocean sang, the air itself began to tremble. It started low, and sounded like a hum. But it gradually became clearer and clearer, until it was singing the purest, softest notes I had ever heard. It struck me in the chest, leaving me feeling hollow and empty, but reverberated off the inside of my skull so it was as though I was hearing it from the inside.

It was nothing perfect, but it was pure and true and beautiful, and nothing I had ever heard before.

 

He sang of the loss of a loved one, of not only a lover but a friend. He sang of the fish and the sea plants, of the sky and the wind. And finally, of himself, of a broken boy living inside of a man’s body, and a heart that would never be whole again.

 

I left half way through the song, as my heart couldn’t bear listening to such pain and loneliness, for I am only human. But also, because although it’s good to know when to speak and when not to, it’s good to know when to keep someone company and when to leave them alone. For although it comforts the heart to have someone beside you, the heart only heals when you’re asleep, or when you’re alone.