soft grumbles

It is the kind that makes me deaf
a loud bang that echoes in my ears
this silence – a stillness that makes
my heart pump wildly
a realization that I am all alone

I'd rather hear croaking frogs
for they signify rain shall soon come.
I like its patter on my roof
as it cleanses every nook.

I'd rather hear the clanging of a thousand bells
it means that men still believe.
I long to hear the sound of singing birds
as I rise to a fresh good morning.

I'd rather see tiny gnats feast on rotten flesh
for it is a sign of life.
I love to see the rise and fall
my mother's tummy makes.
It means she will wake up soon

Alas today, the silence is at its loudest
And my vision is blurred by tears

rolly