Listen to the sweet rondo a
partner sings each night, a lullaby camouflaged among snuffles and snores,
moans and groans. Instead of annoyance,
this joyful noise provides comfort, a succor of peace and love and protection.
Listen to the splendorous
cacophony when family gathers. Baby babbles, a jumble of vowels and consonants,
accompany the lisps and invented language of older siblings. The timbre of adult voices synthesizes with
the innocent giggles and shrieks of baby song. The irreplaceable value of such
a crescendo is never appreciated until the swell subsides, family leaves, and
silence takes its place.
An unexpected phone call and the
voice at the other end warms us with smiles and memories. A baby giggles with
joy and heart strings thrum a chord. A song plays on the radio and melody and
lyrics pierce our soul.
Nature offers a symphony. The cold seasons’ sonatas, howling winds and the
soft snowfalls, complement the cantata rhythms of the warm half of the year. Owls
call to each other in the dark of a hot night, mockingbirds steal the spring song
of others, and insects tune up to discordant riffs.
Even in the silent intermissions
between orchestral displays, the quiet is a lyrical study of sound: a clock ticks a tempo somewhere, a muffled TV
chatters in the distance, and household appliances hum their staged beat.
The sense of sound provides a
story. The sense of sound mirrors our soul.
I have missed reading your blogs. This one is a good reason why. I love your writing.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Lea. This came to me in a dream. Must be the meds.
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