As the seasons of my silence grow,
Cherished sounds grown dim that I used to know
...
Seasons Of My Silence
As the seasons of my silence grow,
Cherished sounds grown dim that I used to know
Like winter forests, tree boughs lie silent
their rapping, tapping grown mute, buried beneath layers of snow.
Willows, frozen hard as steel no longer shake or rattle
Or of icy lake no creak or cackle.
Of Crows I see as before,
But Ravens at my door knock nevermore.
Springs sudden rains, feed streams in freshet, an rivers tumultuously rush,
Filled by melting and pelting, over precipices they fall
The sounds of them are heard not at all
The newborn lambs, on mother's udder do bleep, of them I hear not a peep.
Colts and calves prance their hoofs go clip clop clip clop
And with each other they bounce and play hip hop hip-hop
Of them all I hear not one hip or clip nor hop or clop.
Little birds greet each day with songs of joy
In summers heat they fly and soar, from rooftop and nest,
Gathering grass and twigs, and then back for more,
Of them alas are heard no more.
The gnat and fly have no fear of me,
Nor sting of hornets or the bee
No warning buzz for defense do I contemplate
The bite is done, the swat is too late
Falls fury sweeps thru storm on storm,
Wind gusts crash through the house room on room
Of them is heard no rush, not a slam or a boom.
Golden leaves like lemming all, move to and fro on the winds call
Stream here and there carried high and afar,
Where they will land they do not care, onward on air they scatter.
In silence on my lawn they fall with not a patter or a clatter.
Of the seasons I miss, be it summer, spring or the fall
More then these, though I miss them all,
My Love's arms about me tight her lips
to my ear in sweet whispers she sighs in words so silent..
"I love you my dear"
A loss far greater I so long to still hear.