The Power of Sound

Certain sounds can touch my heart
And bring me close to tears.
Associations that they bring
Still echo through the years.

The mournful wail of a southbound train
The barn’s metal roof as it sheds the rain
A hymn’s remembered harmony
when the tenor starts to rise
The rush of wind in treetops
as a dark storm fills the skies.


A book page softly turning
A robin’s springtime call
The hum of voices praying
Caden’s footsteps in the hall

Womens’ laughter round the table
Gentle Cone Dog’s welcome bark
Crisp footfalls crunching down the lane
And whispers in the dark.

Each goose’s throaty signal
With winter in its cry
The click of a camera’s shutter
Or Troy’s contented sigh.

Warm crackling from a cozy fire
The dinner bell’s deep ring
The whoosh of skis as they cross white snow
The peepers’cries in spring.

A single trumpet at the grave
The warning whoop of a crane
The plop of wet on new green leaves
And my gardens blessed with rain.

The scratch of a pen as words touch page
My mother’s birthday call
Caden’s piping “Nanoo”
The thunk as bat meets ball.

Oh, Proust may say its taste
that sets our memories free
Freeing up the distant past
And blessing you and me.

And painters tout the power
Of sensing with our eyes
But sounds , for me, are stronger
They call my heart to rise.