Echoes

I keep thinking back,
and remembering how it felt.

The echoes travel outward.
But where do they go?

The sounds have been captured.
The feeling of emotion,
transmuted.

When I walk,
I remember the sounds.

When I talk,
I try to explain how it felt,
and what’s to come.

This language, persisting.
A record in time.
That’s the idea.

But what will it become,
as it echoes outward?
Through process.
Through decisions.
Through listening.

A thing that resonates.
A thing that settles,
and persists.
Whether it’s forgotten,
or cherished.

By few, or more.
But what does the room think,
and how do we feel?

Our perspective, and what
reappears.
What dissipates, and is
forgotten.

From bodies,
to space,
a room.

Through devices,
instruments,
and sound.

What is captured,
is thought to be
the record.

But how else might it
echo?

Where does the feeling
go?