A Place With Noise

Filling it up to the brim

What kind of noise?

The kind of the beautiful variety.

The kind you get when opening up a new book, hearing the pages crackle to life.
Like the sound of your hand fumbling to find my fingertips.
The pattering of the rain on a tin can. The splash of wet paint on canvas and the scritch of pencil on paper.
The sound of breathing in morning dew, along with the sigh of satisfaction after a summer nap.
The exclamations made after seeing a comet or the silence I seek and long to hear while holding you close.
The rush of distant cars while the grasshoppers chirp and the blades of grass swish by your ears.