I wonder if the sounds of music
The chants of anger, devotion and love
Populate our interior and echo for ever
Molding us without us knowing it?

How about the echoes of the sounds
That set the milestones of becoming a human being?
The first palpitation of the heart in the womb
The first cry after being born
The first heartbeat of being a lover
And the first sob after the first breakup?

In the archive of the echoes in the interior
Does lie the first sound of kiss
The first exclamation of achieving the heavenly pleasure on earth
A mom’s wailing at the loss of her teenage son or daughter
And the silent cry at the departure of a lover untimely?

I wonder
If the dark chamber of the interior
Is sonorous with the echoes of living
Until we make no sound anymore?