Jonathots Daily Blog
(4515)
A whisper.
What is the whisper?
Is it a begrudging apology offered in plaintive solitude?
Is it breathless uncertainty?
Is it suppressed by intimidation, hoping it no longer can be heard?
Why do we whisper?
Is it intimacy?
Perhaps the words can be uttered without actually being recognized.
Is it gentleness?
Is it the timbre of a coward?
When do we whisper? Usually when we’re close.
Do we whisper when we’re apart?
Do we sometimes speak, hushed, knowing that no one will hear, but still enabling ourselves to complain because they didn’t?
Do other creatures whisper?
Is there room in the natural order for the whisper to prosper?
Can I whisper and be confident; whisper and realize I may not be comprehended?
Is my whisper an objection to the brash cacophony that surrounds me every day?
Or am I just so uncertain of my own meaning that I’d rather remain unknowable?
How do we whisper?
Is it the best way to communicate to a single ear?
How close do the lips have to get to that one ear, often causing a tingling throughout the whole body?
Do great men whisper?
Do lions whisper? Or do they leave that to the meager mouse?
Yes, is whispering mousy?
Is it a way to escape confrontation?
Or is it a pious practice, conveying a holy calm?
Do I whisper?
And when I do, is it a choice of empowerment or a trembling of disbelief?
There is so much overpowering in the world that sometimes a whisper can receive unmerited appreciation.
For what good is there to speak something important if it is so quiet that it can’t be perceived?
What is a whisper?
Is it used more for love or for fear?
Or is it brought out when we fear love?
A whisper.
Maybe it’s just the natural volume of our human soul.