Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

How can I even hope
a drop of hope
in the big green sea
of noise
to sway the waters salty ways
atheists say I am a fool
to pray to an empty sky
but I
am bound to knowledge
of a living sky
deeper than the sea of noise
knowledge woven in the seed of me
now become a living soul
I awoke in the silent hour
suspended in the question
how can I even hope to think
to move the mountains of the earth
to shout into the echo cave
empty hollow mocking dream
yet something stops my thoughts
with light and music
suspended in the request visions of swirling galaxies
endless time swinging away in the majestic ever
says lift your words in trust of love
lift your words above the waters
trust the source of the work
do not break under the weight of silence
one singer in the darkest night
in that eco cave a world away
just as empty hears to join you in the voice
then another
it takes time
for the flood to turn
and flow against the mountains
arise and go

I like this. It rambles a bit (cool), and reminds me of a lot of my thoughts and writing.
It wasn't until I spent time in the desert that I started to perceive the living rock, always in motion, continually being transformed, even fluidly (in rock time, not in our human grasp of "real time"), and out under star terrains speckled on a deep black sky, the wide-open rock sculpture hurtling through space as an extension of cosmos.

I also associated the land of gray-green plenty with noise in some of my own ramblings as well. And yes, coming out of noise, silence definitely has weight, and intensity. And whatever it is we may pray to or address, skyward, it is not pure emptiness. Maybe those physicists will get lucky in their search for "God" in the most indivisible grains of the universe. Anyway, enjoyed.

(typo on 6th line from bottom- "echo")

we are literally stardust.....well done....has pace and determination