To sit in solemn silence: a visualization

"To sit in solemn silence on a dull dark dock..." the coherent yet meaningless series of alliterations tap a rhythm in my head. I remember reciting these lines from my diaphragm to practice pronunciation for the stage. And now  the words are no longer meaningless. They remind me of the moments when I recited them, alone and in chorus, shouting to the window and murmuring to myself. These are the thoughts that fill my silence. It isn't really silence at all, just a reflection of the noise from the day, like a face blurred and darkened in the ripples. A filling of the space with noise like a pond with water. It stretches to every edge and seeps into every crack. And maybe this silence is a chance for me to see myself, if only a reflection of myself. This is why I am drawn to Taft pond and the constant noise of tumbling water to fill my silence and make my silence something I can see and feel and hear and breathe. And really, it is more quiet than silence, more slowness than stillness. Reflection.