! The Sound Of Silence

I’m walking down the street and I hear the sculptor in his house working on his statue of Krishna and the chisel rings out on the stone like a bell that wants to tell you something: the stone saying, I am perfectly made for this; the chisel saying, I am perfectly made for this; the sculptor saying, this is prayer; Krishna saying, I shall enter this. And I hear in the sound of the chisel on the stone, as sure as I know my own name, that the sculptor is listening to all this too. The bell-like sound lingers in the air as if the air would keep it for ever as the air’s prayer. It’s music. The clearer the sound of his striking chisel on stone, the deeper the silence as if sound and silence between them know a secret: that sounds like this can do anything in the world; even call Krishna with their music to play at being stone for us. The stone’s laughing also: playing at being Krishna. They’re both laughing. The sculptor is smiling too.