Three Types of Silence

Anne Simley Theatre, Hamline University

I.

I have sat alone on the apron stage.

My feet dangled freely off it's edge.

No other sat beside me, in front of or behind me,

The theatre's only soul was mine,

sitting on the ledge.

The seats stretched before me in their neatly numbered rows,

The thrones of critics, dreamers, and like-kind.

Filled with powd'ry dust and air (I was the only person there).

Filled seats whose current occupants were

gum,

lost playbills...

my Mind.

How did the theatre sound from the apron stage?

The silence did contrast the shuffling crowds of the past.

But a full House it did become

When ---listening closely; I heard the hum!---

From the House of Silence, my audience was cast:

II.

Contentment showered me with unspoken admiration.

All I've done that has been of note, it praised with affection.

For I (the player) had played my part,

Struggled and fought from the start.

A blessed, sweet silence did give me recognition.

Anticipation then approached me, an anxious, concerning absence.

It tempered my flighty thoughts of certain fame.

We pondered what fickle Future holds,

What it will and won' t uphold,

Of promises and dreams I hallowed

Early in this Game.

Fear then clutched me, with an icy grip and stare!

Using That-Which-Is-Golden to frighten and to cull,

“I'll amplify,” it cried, “what you lack and can't control!

“Until my darkest fantasies envelop your reality,

“Be paralyzed with Silence!”

Fear did tug...

And it did pull...

III.

Have you ever sat alone on the apron stage?

Have your hopes and dreams ever danced before your eyes?

As the Silence sits beside you, in front of and inside you,

The theatre's only mind is yours.

The visions? Your design.

The seats will stretch before you in their neatly numbered rows,

Thrones filled by critics, dreamers, all your Mind.

Content to watch, and wait, and see,

The type of person you will be,

Reminiscing and predicting, and afraid

Of what you will find...

That silence spoke of sundry things, on that apron stage.

To me, a child, acting out life's thrills.

I find it particularly strange that I

Perched on the stage, found it was my

Audience that performed. Silent, Unseen, and Still.

            

             I was in a poetic mood today, and recalled a memory from my senior year in high school that was particularly poignant.

          

           It was close to graduation. I think it was during a study period. Somehow I found myself alone in the auditorium. It was a rare thing that there weren't any classes in the auditorium at the time; many classes had a study period in it. I took advantage of the moment by seating myself on the edge of the stage.

           

           To my surprise, I got a little emotional as I stared out at the hundreds of empty seats. I didn't cry. But all the memories of plays and concerts past, and the fact that this introductory chapter of my life was coming to a close fell heavily upon me. There was only one thing to do, and that was to sit in silence. It was probably one of the most peculiar silences I've ever listened to. The silence had such a tangible, sentient quality to it... I could have been in the presence an audience, holding their breath, waiting to see what I'd do next.

           I'm convinced one can hear the absence of sound. It isn't the same as hearing a sound; instead, the emotions of the moment are projected into the absence, and one registers the sensation as some kind of “noiseless noise.” Maybe one hears a buzz, or maybe even a ringing. Silence always reflects the pervading feeling of the listening space. Give it a listen, the next time you're surrounded by Silence :)