What if the ocean ran silent,
no lapping waves slapping
against encrusted logs,
no humpback song
echoing deep down
beyond the sunight
in a place we have only seen
on National Geographic?
What if the skies were empty
no wheeling gulls
screaming at their neighbours,
no cheeky crows
tormenting my dog
as she tries to pee in silence
before her morning cookies
and snuggles?
What if the roads were endless
tarmac with faded lines
and no automobiles,
or hippies hitchhiking
to a rock concert in a park
their life in a faded backpack
with mountain coop logo
torn at the edges?
What if our hearts ran silent
walled from within by fear
a deeper longing
we never understood
clawing at us from within
like a west wind cold
carrying wheeling gulls far away
to hear the humpbacks sing?
What if the silence is us
noses pressed tight
into our 6 inch reality,
stumbling forward aimless
and unaware of the great circle
of sound that connects us
from Frieda’s smile
to a newborn humpbacks cry?
ml’25
(original image by crocerossina at pixabay.com)