The Poetry Of Señor Tao – The Sound Of Silence

Señor Tao (April 17, 1948 -)

The Sound Of Silence

It was almost silent
except for the constant buzz of life between my ears
Then the cooing of the mourning doves perched
on the terrace looking for leftover seeds attracted me.
They take flight and I hear the beating of wings against invisible air.
I see the plants moving with the breezes but no sounds
from them except for the occasional whistle of the wind
that poetically shapes their bodies in a beautiful ballet.

It was almost silent
Then the elevator rose from the lobby to my floor.
Footsteps, voices. I can hear cups and silverware
rattling on the waiter’s tray.
Please do not knock on my door. I am not hungry.
I am enjoying a morning of silence. At least I was.

It was almost silent
before I started writing this poem.
Now I am overwhelmed with the sounds of everything.