The Sound of Silence

For Emma's contest

 

The Sound of Silence

 

The snow fell, and the world became a quieter place. I stood in the lychgate and listened to a Welsh male voice choir practising in the chapel. I heard lilting tenors putting high notes into the sky and the deep rounded notes of the basses leaning low on the gravestones that surrounded the whitening building. Once a singer myself, I could pick out the four parts which make up the harmony of Myfanwy, quite clearly. Oh that I was in there on this cold, snowy night but here I am, resident yet excommunicated as I stand cold in the graveyard of what was once my village. The snow was sticking, dry and soft in the mountain air. As I sought to pick out the chocolate brown sound of the second bass line, I realised that blend and harmony had taken over. No longer was the sound echoing clear against hard surfaces, but rolling softly over the deepening whiteness, weaving and swirling through the stones, achieving pianissimos that were superb, a conductor’s dream, whispered almost – but still the tune was there soughing towards me as would breeze in the rigging of a four-master.   Now the snow was so deep that, crouched behind a wall, I could barely hear the men leaving the building just the deep murmur of conversations and the rich crunch of feet on deep snow.   Soon, even that was gone and there was no sound at all – none. Snow had brought with it, total absorption, silence. I realised then that I was listening to silence – the sound – sshhhhhh – of silence. White Silence.

 

Rising, I trod noiselessly away, leaving neither sound nor footprint, into the churchyard that had become my home.

 

 

Reviews

[ElizabethAnn]

oh, this is marvelous!
i loved it! being a singer in an a capella choir a few years, i understand the sounds you were so excellently creating images with. amazing visions and sights are involved in this piece, it's amazing! and i love that it goes from the sounds of the singers to complete "white silence" because i have also noticed that fallen snow brings with it silence...so much so that it's almost eerie. but i love this work, it's beautiful.

[Donald Meikle]

your work raised ghosted memories of Wales on Sunday morning, notes that a boy of ten could echo so easily then, adrift on rising valley breeze as he tried to tickle trout.

[Odrah]

This leaves me rather breathless for some reason. What I enjoy so much about this is that from the very first few lines I was pulled fully into it. You have a way of writing that makes what you write seem like a personal memory for the reader. At least, for me. I enjoyed this very much.

[Lyndie Bolt aka JustRac..]

In this "rounded notes of the basses leaning low on the gravestones" is the protagonist "leaning" or the notes? I've never thought of notes as 'leaning'... Otherwise a very beautiful read.

So is he dead?

Lynn

[The DuchessPoet]

Oh my,
This is noting shy of brilliant!
I wish I could close my eyes and read because then i could shut the visions around me out and completely enjoy the passionate serenade of lyrical entrancement!

I am, as I'm sure you can tell, a very passionate person and my body reacts naturally to the enthrallment of my senses ...
For example: I get chills, or the tips of my ears turn blood red, or my nose gets sweaty and my hands become clammy!
lol
When I read this I got chills! and I bet my ears turned red! (smiling)
This amazing!
I LOVE IT!

Hey do you sing?

Respectfully,
The Duchess

[emmajoy]

Oh John! How do you do this! How do you manage to weave a long succession of letters into the most incredible pieces of prose, in this case.. or poetry in another.

' deep rounded ... leaning low' - 'chocolate brown' - 'rich crunch' - such magic you add with simple words!

As to the ending.. not what i expected and therefore, such a finale - 'rising noiselessly''

Thank you for sharing such wonderful words.