Filling the Silence

Twenty Days of V. 

“The result are ok.” The hospital staff confirms after conducting a mandatory hearing test on your day-old ears. You’re ready to hear more about this world. We’ll set you up to your maiden sonic trip. I played you the songs we made you listen to when you were still in the womb. Now that you’re out, your first auditory memories of Earth will include Chopin, Explosions in the Sky, Chet Baker, The Philippine Madrigal Singers, Siguro Ros and The Beatles. You will hear a lot more awful things in the world. You will hear about about the meaning of discrimination, crime, capitalism, neo-liberalism. But there will always be music. As we say,  music is a wand that brings both magic and meaning to our lives without the aid of logic or explanation. 

Who can resist not playing “Here Comes the Sun” during your daily serving for morning sunshine?

We filled the silence you hear with poetry. The first faint line. Pure nonsense. Pure wisdom. Of someone who knows nothing. We acquaint you with the world through the love sonnets of Browning, Shakespeare. We comfort your ears with the poetry of ee Cummings and Neruda.

I queued our wedding’s play list when I carried you earlier. We danced along with the songs. You looked up to me, locked in a stare of pure concentration, until you finally fall asleep. So this is what having a new-born daughter is like. It’s a wedding dance: triumphant and liberated from fear.

I also understood why I skipped so many poetry readings, those literature-inclined gigs and parties and meet and greets. Because I am meant to read it right now to you.

                                                         i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

 You are, after all, truth.