April the 18th? Really? Already? How is this so?
Ya ever wonder why I start a lot of paragraphs with the words, “Ya ever wonder”? Man I messed up the punctuation of that last sentence, right?
Well, like I was saying, or like I was gonna start to say, so much has been written about noise. So many things have focused on those things that rattle our ear drums. Hardly a time goes by when we aren’t flooded with big, beautiful noise. It’s up there, around over there, under there, through there, and whatever you’re hearing right now, right this very minute, understand that no one else is hearing it quite the same way that you are.
Can you wrap your melon around that one?
I love noise, probably so much because it reminds me that I’m alive, and that I live in a big beautiful world full of every kind of sound you could ever imagine. I love the sound of instruments, voices, cars, trucks, babies, animals, thunder, rain, wind, phones ringing and my screen reader as the keys make their popping sounds under my fingers.
I also like those special times when it is quiet, like when I’m sleeping, when I’m contemplating, when I’m trying to concentrate on things, like school work, aarrgghh! Grin
Quiet has been written and talked about and sung about a lot. Probably not as much as noisy things have, but still, it has received its share of a fair market value, and then, the noise starts up once again and life goes on.
This is the 18th day of April, and below you will find poem number 18 of this, the National Poetry Month of, yup, you guessed it, April!
Pull up a chair, kick your shoes off, and thanks for stopping by my blog.
Please remember, and never forget, no matter where you go, there you are, and if you’re really quiet, you just might be able to hear yourself think.
Mind boggling, ain’t it?
Do take care, and keep well.
A poem by DP Lyons
I sat on the front steps in the sunlight this morning
I listened to my own personal slice of the world
The blue jay sang out along the April morn
The cardinal called out in search of its mate
An airliner soared high atop the clouds overhead
A train across the valley blew its whistle as it rumbled to life
A woodpecker did exactly what you would expect a woodpecker to do
A lone crow hollered out from far across the field
A pair of sparrows flittered and chorused their way from tree to tree
A car slowly drove by the front of the house
The train’s whistle blew, once again
And then, slowly, surely, my slice of world went quiet
The birds all stopped singing their song
The train had rumbled its way out of town
The jet was still overhead, but somewhere else
The car had rolled out of sight, and out of sound
It was perfectly quiet
It was impeccably still
A perfectly silent slice of the world
And it was all mine