noise

i learned once that you can judge an environments health by how much noise it makes

the jungle, for example, is dense with sound. the air is heavy with it.
so much sound you can't discern one cry from the next
a cacophony of pleasure & lust, danger & fearfulness, i'm hungry i'm heavy i'm here now i'm dying
everything abuzz with Life, that magic, the air sticky and thick with its song

my environment is different.
i won't judge whether it's healthy or not, i wont pretend to know
but it's certainly different
i eat lunch from the tailgate of my truck, legs dangling, and wonder about the whooshing of cars
doesn't this count for something?
i wonder about the roots of that tree, which don't even know that there's concrete above
i wonder about the clicking of heels, the swishing of skirts
about biodegradable skin-care
it's the first week of spring and we're smiling at the sky

i wonder about my interior environment
is my neurotic whirling a signal of health? are the echo sounds a good thing?
alone in my bedroom,
crying,
listening to the washing machine's spin,
reading my sisters book,
i'm feeling swept up and comforted and wild and gracious

this Life

quiet and loud
i want to live in a celebration of its mystery, its beauty, its song