When I Stop to Listen

I hear a door close and wonder

what adventure it's owner is on.

I hear a child's laughter,

like a tinkling bell.

I hear music,

a melody that conveys what I cannot say.

I hear my own breathing,

the steady in and our that reminds me I'm alive.

Whispers of memory float through my mind,

like leaves following the wind.

My thoughts move by,

the sounds of passing traffic on the hallway.

I hear the small thumps and crackles,

the drumbeat of the day's activities.

I can imagine the sounds of chirping birds and crickets,

the hum of cicadas.

Something as quiet as the beat of my own heart

or as loud as a symphony.

Isn't it strange how our brain can hold close

the sounds that make up our world?

I sit in stillness, but not in silence.

I hear the life that exists all around me

when I stop to listen.