I like to listen
to the sounds
that God hands
me when light
is born and nature
bids me to simply live.
How do we live
with so much noise? Listen
to the silence. Human nature
is loud and sounds
its dominance and light
of knowledge forged by our hands.
Where do we suppose our hands
were formed? Can we cause dirt to live
or the sun to rise? I think our light
is a matchstick, or how one strains to listen
to a pin dropping in the universe. Sounds
like a very poor song by which to live.
The nature
of this world is complex. Human hands
could not mimic thunderclaps' sounds
any more than to live
means being deaf with the intent to listen
or to know that the sun is light.
No, I know there is a greater light
than sunshine, and perhaps it is my nature
or habit to still my soul to listen
to smile and raise my minute hands
and try to grow, to know to live
by truth's clear sounds.
The silent blade of grass sounds
booming melody, songs that bring light
to my eyes and urge me to live
with purpose, beyond the excuse of human nature
beyond the power of my hands
with the wisdom of a simple listen.
Live with the steadfast nature
of the eye of a storm. Light hands
us truth, but only if the sounds that banish shadows are for what we listen.
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