All of this put me in mind of the poem. If Live, Stones Hear by Marie Ponsot in her collections of poems entitled "Easy".
Where there are two
choose more than one.
In the longing of silence
for sound
the longing of sound for
silence
makes waves. Are the winds
of outer space
an utterance
or simply the rush of change
are rivers under our ground
audible to stones and to moles.
or is their wet self-storage
self-contained
Between silence and sound
we are balancing darkness,
making light of it,
like the barren pear
that used to bloom
in front of Elaine's uplifting
Second Avenue,
like the acacia trees
perfuming the rue d'Alesia.
Ponsot's line "between silence and sound we are balancing darkness, making light of it" is a beautiful image of finding meaning in the surprises and setbacks, the tragedies and triumphs of life. Each of these, "silence and sound" long for each other. It is interesting that Ponsot does not frame these in a Manichean duality of light and darkness but of only darkness. Much of life is balancing degrees of suffering but, in so doing, we make light of that very darkness.
It is a powerful image speaking of our ability to be co-Creators with God who creates ex nihilo (out of nothing). By analogy, we too, create, while not ex nihilo - out of the void that exists between "silence and sound".
The gap between silence and sound is where we, as interpreters, stand and ultimately create life's elan.
This balance between the longing of silence for sound and sound for silence requires a finally attuned and attentive ear to locate that slight gap that science has not even developed a word for. It also requires that we participate in the relationship and desire that each of these (silence and sound) have for the other. It is in that very space that life emerges.