Surround Sound,
Is life.
Up real close,
Or half across town,
Everywhere and all the time,
Is surround sound.
You may be bombarded,
Or listening intent,
But it’s never gone,
No it never went.
It never stopped it’s getting around,
Its everywhere and always there,
Surround sound.
The audiofiles,
They take control,
Make the soundscape,
Imitate the whole.
But beneath the matter,
Dull in the roar,
Is the constant kind,
The living sort,
Of every day vibrations,
With no how nor what for.
It can make you cringe,
It can make you cry,
It can make you madder,
Insane and wild.
When it never ceases,
It never stops,
Is never predictable,
And never stops,
But surrounds.
The sounds.
In the bustling city,
Or the quiet wake,
By its very nature,
Or by mistake,
It’s always there,
To be found,
There is all
Surrounding sound.
You may try to hide,
To take a break,
In a quiet cabin,
By the lake.
And there you’ll find,
Peaceful breeze,
The surrounding sounds
Of life of ease.
The heart will slow,
And settle down,
Laid to rest,
By surrounding sounds.
The kind of whisper,
You don’t quite hear,
And don’t quite mind,
As you know it’s dear,
And love that its there,
Hanging around,
A calm abode,
Is that kind of sound.
Not too hard,
To ponder,
Or sip into sleep.
Doze for a while,
Count some sheep.
Not a bad idea,
For lucky you,
If you can find escape,
And tune into,
Soft soundscapes.
But its still there,
Hanging round,
As you must always deal,
With some kind of sound.
So I suggest you try,
To move in dance,
Move right with it,
Take its hand.
Plug in your body,
To the rhythmic ground,
Become like one,
And move around,
With the source of sources,
Surround Sound.
|
