You are to my eyes
What the stars in the sky
Whisper to their sisters
And to my ears
What the clouds
Rain down—
Zeus created lighting,
And sent you
To supply the boom  
Thunder stolen
That i may hear,
Not only see,
You

As Plato stated:
First study sound,
then philosophy,
and finally physics.
So too, in the inner school:
mantra,
then silence,
and finally visualization.

For once all three are studied,
all can work in harmony.

BELL

Sound spreads like a cold splash
trembling with high connections.
The exuberant voice of the bell
shatters the hush of air.

Great clouds seem to echo,
startling dreamers, breaking
the deep tone of somber thoughts.

There is a wondering at sound,
ringing out the morning mist
or the last remains of day.

There is a coloring of time,
bulging outwards like a
courier with urgent news.

Why, bell, do you remind us
of the passing hours when
mind, listening to a long-lost
song, only wishes to travel
backwards.

Dark words distorted
Cold careless chaos crawling
Same sound. Morphed meaning.

Cobwebs hang white on the frosty air as digging begins

A lone bird on a bush makes its high call,

sharp as the wind through a broken window

a toothpick of noise

bouncing off damp bricks, that look as though they might fall softly
to the wet grass below

and lay hidden by tears

Is there anything more profound

than the mournful sound

of a shovelling ***** as it fills in a grave

and closes the ground