It was quiet in America a thousand years ago,
On a normal day, so still, you could almost hear the flowers grow.
The only sounds occurring by the woods or by the sea
Were the daily sounds of nature, singing out in harmony.
On the ground, or in the air, it hardly mattered which,
The silence was astonishing, its texture was so rich.
The forest sounds included those of deer and mountain lion;
With luck, when they were still, you might hear the soft breeze sighing.
The eastern natives had long-houses, built with sturdy trees,
They wielded home-made axes to erect their homes with ease.
In silence women tilled the fields, soft-treading men sought deer;
Each summer's menu featured fish, caught in a rustic weir.
The world you navigate today reverberates with sound,
From screeching brakes and honking horns, your ears are being drowned.
A million voices try to shout above the traffic's scream,
While quiet seems a precious prize you yearned for in a dream.
No way has been discovered to return us to the past;
You wouldn't be the first to hope, nor would you be the last.
But every now and then, it's good to leave the telephone,
To take a walk in silence, and enjoy its quiet tone.