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  • Writer's pictureHaru Ru

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Does silence possess a hidden symphony?

Does it arise from the echoes of sound waves?

Does it emerge from enigmatic chemical reactions?

Does it materialize within the tempestuous embrace of thunderstorms?

Imagine this: an apple, encased within a plastic cocoon, submerged in a watery abyss, left to weather the erosion of countless hours, days, years, even decades. What emotions would stir within that apple? Would it stand desolate and forlorn? What intricate melodies would it emit? I yearn to unravel this enigma, to fathom the apple's essence—its emotional state, its very being.


Can you hear its silent song?

In the realm of cosmic creation, can we apprehend the resounding chorus of the Big Bang? Can we attune our senses to the sublime harmony that birthed the universe? In my mind's eye, such an auditory revelation would transcend mere beauty—it would encapsulate the very essence of awe.

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