I hear the whimper of a sad owl in the middle of the burning night
I hear the tears falling from silence.
I hear the whisper of the beating, living, loving heart.
I hear the pain of the paper, the brittle, torn-apart.
I hear the trembling voice of a singer-mute,
I hear the glory in the hearts of youth.
I hear the thundering thoughts of a curious mind,
I hear the music of a broken light.
I hear the sorrow of a happy smile,
I hear the everlasting love, everlasting time.
I hear the whimper of a sad owl in the middle of the burning night,
I hear the tears falling from a distance inside.
I hear the glaze of the autumn rain beginning to fall,
I hear it as I write.
I hear it all.