Sounds (For Those Who Have Ears)

Sometimes all I have the strength to do is listen.

Sounds fill the night—airplanes, cars honking, ambulances.

Sometimes I imagine that I am blind and sounds are my only friends.

Messages brought alive to alert my senses—the ringtone of a phone, crumpling paper, a spinning dryer

These are not the sounds of rattling bones, inflamed anger, or pontificating pundits.

These are everyday noises that remind me of the business of life--

Laughing students, the scratching of a squirrel running up a tree, a motorcycle revving on a city street.

Sometimes I want to spend a day only listening, not talking.

Delving into another’s soul—hearing the fear of defeat, the wonder of a child, the joy of success.

                Sometimes I am lulled to sleep by the rhythm of a fan or the ticking of a nearby clock.

Sounds remind me I am alive--strumming guitars, a missed voice that brings tears, a genuine and thankful response, the thud of my beating heart.

Yet one of the greatest sounds of all is the sound of your own voice—knowing you have the power to bring calm to a storm, cause someone sad to smile, bend wills, strengthen burdened hearts, and encourage ones you love.

May I use my voice to be a sweet melody to a world that hears only sadness and despair.

                Sometimes I love the sound of silence most of all—for in silence I hear the voice of hope.