Babble Options

[Guest_sandiegopoet_*]

Babble

Waves upon waves of syllables
crashed onto a shore of open ears,
relentless as surf upon sand.
Some called for small fishes to unite
against the larger ones. Others lauded
the glory and the power of the bigger fish.
A few berated the moon for how it gave,
then took away, terrain. And always,
the ocean was too cold, or too warm,
or so "just right" that everyone must know.

Those of us who lived upon the bluffs
that overlooked the sea heard
the endless phonemes not as missives
or declarations. We heard them
as early man turned his senses toward
the breeze fingering the woodwind
of the cave door, or as a child, who wakes
in the morning, and listens to the chirping
of the birds, and the broom of the evergreen
raking bristles against the eaves.

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