From echoes across the lake ,to the shuffle of the Rabbit outside its warren,
These sounds affect me,leading me to avert my ears in their direction,
Sometimes,my mind wants to hear every sound,in between every silence,
But I can’t hear every sound,just as I can’t understand everything,
We have to accept our limitations,that we are sentient beings,
So,with our imperfections,our frailties,we accept what we are,we know that,
In a truce with our soul,we just try to be us,we live for the authentic,
Yes,it’s a risk,because to be real signifies that we expose whom we really are,
That honesty might offend,might draw others away,but it’s better to be honest,
For in that state,we can be at peace with the sound of our own heart,
So,of all the sounds that I can hear own,I have to hear the sound of my own heart beating,because without it,I have nothing,nothing at all.
So,all you birds,you rabbits,you hares,you gui ea pigs,you stoats,you weasels,you hedgehogs and the like,I’m listening now to the sound of my own heart and through it I will be of use to you.
Does that sound alright?