Within one sound,
many sounds dwell.

When I play crystal bowls,

“I just heard a different sound.”

people sometimes tell me.

When I listen, too,
I sometimes find myself following the sounds deep within, rather than the sound on the surface.

A single sound contains,
along with its fundamental, components of many different frequencies.

These are overtones.

Even on the same note, “C,”
some sounds stretch out transparently,
while in others another voice seems to rise up from deep inside.

Sounds with depth.
Sounds that spread like light.
Sounds that linger far into the distance.

Every crystal bowl
truly has an expression of its own.

That is why, when I choose a bowl,
I listen to what lies deep within its sound
as closely as I read the number on the tuner.

The sound at the moment it is struck.
The sound that emerges a little later.
The sound that lingers as it fades.

And what appears
when it is layered with other bowls.

That is what fascinates me.

Something that could not be heard in one
may appear the moment two sounds overlap.

Add one more,
and yet another resonance rises.

Just as meeting another person
can reveal a side of someone they never knew,
I feel sound has moments like that, too.

Within one sound,
many sounds dwell.

And those sounds, in turn,
have partners to resonate with.

Listening to overtones,
I find the world of sound is far wider than I imagine.

That, I think, is why
I could keep listening forever.