Claire V. Bogdanos

There are small sounds that fill my mind with thoughts that soar

While minute, so bold they challenge any ocean’s roar.

They’re sounds that only love can heal or kindness teach

When strength’s beyond the deepest place one heart can reach.

These sounds of silence fall too soft on hollow ears

But speak more plainly than the eloquence of tears.

That last sound , the labored breathing of one adored,

The closing sigh which signifies he’ll come no more,

These are the sounds that will confuse a lifetime much

And leave an empty void that only time can touch.

Petals falling from a rose to the garden bed,

Tight laughter that issues forth when goodbye is said,

That stirring of the pulse with heartbeat quickening

Unbidden, heralding each pains awakening

Or hushed darkness of the night now moving slowly

While the rush of the wind in mid-flight moans lowly,

Some weeping sounds which from the tearful heart are wrung

As sounds of chanted mass are in a choir sung.

These have lingered in the air with hope awaiting

Within our lives , some restful aim contemplating.

Hence hearken to those sounds declaring time’s ending

With all the consequence of old thoughts attending.

Acknowledge, in the distance, one trumpet crying

Both man and beast in manner like are soon dying.

Then understand the difference that love has made

And in that final moment, hear an accolade.