I dreamed I was listening to silence

I was standing in a field at dusk, not moving, not breathing—just listening. Not to sounds, but to the space between them. The air felt thick with absence, like something was being held in balance. A bird flew overhead, but I didn’t hear it. I only felt the shift in stillness after it passed. When I woke, my ears were ringing—not with noise, but with the echo of quiet. I’ve been thinking about what it means to truly listen to nothing. Not as emptiness, but as presence.