We hear the silence only when the cry of the cicadas ceases. We hear pure silence. Basho, with his consummate art, captured this oneness of motion and stillness in a short poem. The cry suddenly stops, or is suspended, but in stopping seems to continue in the ensuing silence, in fact seems to permeate it. Just as stillness appears to pervade the cicada's cry so the cry of the cicada resounds in the stillness, the stillness is permeated by it.
Silence pervades the cicada's cry, silence is pervaded by the cicada's cry.
This brings us to the 3rd phase-I hope, for the sake of clarity, I may be forgiven for using such unpoetical terminology. Everything is almost the same as in the first phase, but only almost, because in between there is a 'poetic turn' of 360 degrees. Because each moment relates to the other, it follows that each relates also to itself. The metaphor is taken back or withdrawn insofar as stillness, rock and the cicada's cry are metaphors of themselves. When the metaphor is a short analogy, it becomes an analogy of itself.