The Sound of Time
by Carmen Ruggero
I heard a sweet little sound —
soft and light as a feather on the breeze,
break the silence of night.
Like a velvety tune, it caresses my senses.
I’m curious, so I sit and listen:
It whooshes like a gentle wind
scurrying through supple leaves and petals
heavy with the scent of summer.
A flash of sound, a hummingbird in flight,
and I wonder, as I watch it scurry through the air:
Where does it land when it leaves my sight?
And the silence whispers tonight,
a song I seem to remember, now.
It resonates inside my throat,
and my lips want to echo a reprise
to this sound that dribbles through space
like bouncing droplets of rain.
I feel it close to me; its breath brushes my skin
then it ebbs as swells do
when they break and foam around my feet.
I watch them rush back to the sea
and I wonder, as I see them disappear:
Whom will they touch, after they’ve touched me?
And the silence whistles tonight,
a tune it needs me to hear, no doubt.
It has traveled the worldly planes,
it has flown celestial realms
like a mischievous cherub playing
amongst the softness of snow,
and pine trees heavy with the scent of hope
and then a traveler heard its sound
and he listened: It whistles, cheerful and bright...
He felt it like the swells that rushed and foamed
around his feet, and wondered
as he stood in the midst of silence, again:
who will hear it, when I set it free?