Echo and Echoes

An echo can say a thousand words, Having no mouth, lungs, voice or will.

It has no choice, no volition , no freedom. It has no consciousness, being utterly unaware.

Having no thoughts, feelings or actions, no perceptions or sensations…

It has no past, present, nor future. No now and no then. No ever, no never, no could’ve or can.

Having no hope, no aspiration, no intention no motivation, it arises from nothing of substance, no past-life experience, nor memory.

An echo whispers faintly through the distance what has been said.

When non-vocal, it snappingly claps through the air as a wind shattered into sound.

It emerges from and fades back into nothing, the absence, the void of the silence.

Youngsters sometimes yell out – in order to hear echoes.

And children sometimes play with that voice of a seemingly similar self - the unseen child around some geographic corner. Would that nonbeing be of same age, height and profile?

Listening to children playing with echoes, the imagination longingly pines for a long lost child, a long lost cousin or sibling, or best friend. A missing twin brother or sister, mistakenly separated and taken mysteriously away.

Both would be yearning to talk, to converse face to face, and to do so together.

My mind feels these things when I recall a child playing with echoes.