Soft, alive and wandering
The sound that hits the shore
Moves her world around in it
And beats a quiet roar

Worlds of bathing light she sees
Vibrating through the haze
The pressure and the feel of it
A comfort to be praised

Everywhere the shimmering sound
That is all she knows of life
Held within her mother's womb
So far and free from strife

Softly as a whisper will
It lands upon her eyes
Her mind feeds on sensations
As endless as the skies


James H. Webb