"A Resonant Silence", from my "Contemplations on Being a Woman" questions the senses. Is a quiet so powerful in a place so alive? Do we hear what we would like to hear in the midst of what really is? When we are part of something so grand and monumental, is there not a sound to be attributed? In deafness can there be noise just the same? Our minds are a sound in and of themselves....do we not listen? Instinct speaks to us and screams the way, whether we chose to hear it or not.