Arthur Altman

TIME AND I*

My mother was a poet of note

She wrote what to expect

When she slipped behind

The veil of oblivion

Where she would be

Left me to find her

If I could

When her time prevailed

I searched and searched

To no avail

My anxiety did increase

None could explain

I pleaded I cried

My peace of mind denied

I knew little time remained

When my turn came

To slip beyond the veil

At last I knew

That I would prevail

Her poems would leave

Me to find

Her place sublime

Among the fields

Where time and I

Found our release

Thoughts

Pervasive muted, cold sky

Flat, quiet lake

A sharp edged horizon

Sun behind clouds rests

Streets wiped clean of people

Minuscule cars parked below us

Humans replaced with science

Internet computers remain

Winds blow with

Anxiety of human loss

Their noise imperceptible

Impermanence begins

Raindrops remain unused

The Wonder of Sound

Sounds have such unlimited variations

Sublimity for everyone

Needed for psyche and soul

Wonders that avoid repetitive sounds

Such as grating, roaring, banging,

Crashing, blaring , intrusive kinds

All the revenge of The Devil

Without good hearing you miss

A pen’s faint noise writing on paper

Babies gurgling, giggles

The breath of satisfaction

Wife’s happy humming

The voice of someone announce you’ve won the lottery

Violins, pianos, symphonies

Bringing a joyous inner peace

With an overwhelming obliteration of worry

I rejoice now with my hearing aids

A renewal of the world of sound