King of quietude, the void is silent. Being empty, the void does not make noise. It does no call out nor radiate sound into the air. Nor even does the void sing to itself. When the listener hears the singing of the void, that is the listener’s own hearing, hearing the sound of itself. The absence of noise can be loud. The empty void is still. It does not move, there is nothing to move. In stillness and in silence can the void be implicitly perceived. In the empty courtyard, all enclosed, ivy covers the wall with a still resonance of time, green leaves, shadowed green, deeper shadows, all still, the cool grey rock walls nearly invisible in the shadows, green grass below and cool bright blue sky above; the watcher watches the stillness and the listener hears the silence. Void enters the peace of the watcher, the silent listener. Time crinkles and disappears, mind’s envelope opens, long waves of thought flow on without resistance, merging into harmonic overtones of truth.
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