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I hear sounds.
Water running from the eave, - people dancing as they weave - past each other in the rain, - each rushing to catch their train. - Splashing noises are heard - as autos pass by near the curb. - A horn, a toot, to make aware - of dangers passing there. - Whimper sounds of dog all wet - makes one wonder why a pet - must be out walking when it rains. - It’s no wonder he complains.
I hear sounds.
Tell me, when the breezes blow, - can you see winds that make it so? - The leaves that turn their backs and flutter, - crisp leaves, the shade of peanut butter, - are abraded by the breeze - before they fall to winter’s freeze.
I hear sounds.
A bird on nearby limb - may take to wing at slightest whim. - Listen for the beating wings - as his chosen target springs - swiftly past his reaching clutches - so swiftly the bird barely touches.
I hear sounds.
Exasperation, a sigh heaved, - when someone has been aggrieved. - A chuckle, modest, near-unheard - in response to other’s jesting word. - Giggles of a child at play - while they dance a childish ballet
I heard sounds.
A spatter, stutter, rattle sound - as sudden hailstones strike the ground. - A howling screech of protest heard - when winter winds cause branches stirred - and scraped and beaten, one on one, - by winds rooted trees cannot outrun. - The brittleness when sap’s withdrawn - leave broken tree limbs on the lawn.
I hear sounds.
A cat, mother in her prime, - leads with little more than mime, - her litter, those with such short ears. - Yet, it’s plain each kitten hears. - Most follow, nearly in her tracks, - though sometimes a reluctant pack. - Soon exploration will begin - and they will wear their mother thin. - She’ll worry, she will call, - she’ll warn them of a pending fall. - Though silent to the ear of some, - small alerts will issue from - this mother, in her grave concern - until, at last, her kittens learn.
I hear sounds.
When we hear a baby cry, - we worry and wonder why. - Might they fear or be in pain? - Might they calm to soft refrain? - When they giggle, as in mirth, - sounds of gladness fill the earth. - When their first word’s spoken clear, - we smile with pride and hold them near.
I hear sounds.
A cry, a moan or unleashed laughter; - reaction is what we are after. - Silence, no emotion shared - leaves doubt whether the person cared. - Communication through a sound - is what makes the world go round.
I hear sounds.
Although silent to the ears of some - who have listened themselves numb - to life that goes on day to day, - I have found that each sound weighs - the smallest portion of a gram, - yet builds to make me what I am. - Life itself, that pulsing beat - sometimes makes me tap my feet - and my toes begin to twitch - and it’s as though I fought an itch. - My ears need not perk up at all - to sense when a stray leaf may fall. - I need not see a splashing brook - or offer it a special look - to know that water flows. - Nor would I propose - a person simply stand and listen. - One need be no magician - to feel the pulses life provides - as we breath in and out. Besides, - whether countryside or towns, - we’re the composite of the sounds.

By The_Pip

© 2014 The_Pip (All rights reserved)


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