The music of the spheres...

Last night I was meditating on the
Buddha’s way.
Savoring a quiet,
Introspective intermission.
Suddenly, I was interrupted
By a seemingly spontaneous party
Downstairs.
It was somebody’s something, I surmised,
Mixed and matched with one or more
Of a myriad of mirth-inducing libations.

The verbal invasion continued for
Several hours,
Participants pouring up and down
The front steps,
Just beneath my open window.
A virtual calliope of post-adolescent
Voices,
Clustering under the ancient oaks
In the darkness below.
Chatter and clinking glass
Echoing in rhythmic pulse,
Intonation of modern music,
Twenty-first century divas,
And a dozen digital drum-kits;
The talk, mostly of football scores
And other collage-oriented
Current events,
Consuming the silence.

Today and now, being what it is,
Raised beer-cans, bottles, and voices
Permeating the potential stillness of a
Saturday night.
Reluctantly, I realize
Clamor is no stranger to this
University neighborhood;

People-noise being second only
To the constant bump and rumble
Of passing trucks and automobiles,
Here, a busy intersection.
Elsewhere,
Police, fire-truck, and ambulance sirens
Wail.

I hear helicopters and airplanes,
Even the faint greetings
Of a passing ship,
And to top it off,
A distant, grumbling freight train,
All things destined to imbed their
Threads
Into the endless surrounding
Sound-scape,
Vibrating harmoniously in this
Intangible, yet perpetually invasive,
Audio-fabric,
Forever weaving a path here,
Into my, otherwise preoccupied
Brain.

In this, an epiphany;
Interrupted thoughts
Gently reminding me
Of my original purpose,
The contemplation of
Everything and nothing.

It was as if… I were already there.