This mind is full of sounds…
like Shakespeare’s island; though
no mind is like an island…
...
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And what an AMAZING storehouse the mind is...to save all those sounds just for us...to be called forth just when we need them...or to prod us and make us feel guilty when we need to be reminded...and to bless us with voices long lost to us. Thanks, Michael, for posting this one...it, too, is like one of those long lost voices, a gentle reminder for me to stop and listen? Scarlett
This is nice, Michael. I think poets are blessed by more vivid sounds in the 'inner ear.' Mine show up often to soothe, or to remind me of something undone. Raynette
Prospero himself could not have expressed it more beautifully. After the first few lines of this I thought of that moment when your ears have just been syringed and you can hear life again - so aggressively and agreeably. Even the sound of the toilet paper scrunching becomes joyous. So glad you found your 'mother voice'. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥