I have wished a bird would fly away
And not sing by my house all day;
Have clapped my hands at him from the door
When it seemed as if I could bear no more.
The fault must partly have been in me.
The bird was not to blame for his key.
And of course there must be something wrong
In wanting to silence any song. Robert Frost
[Frost, A Minor Bird; A New Anthology of Robert Frost’s Poems; New York: Washington Square Press, 1971, p.199]
Sometimes, the songs I try to silence are beautiful. Other times, perhaps they are the ones I most need to hear. In a world full of people singing their truth or spinning lies, the least I can do is pay attention.