And, when you hear a hammer strike a nail
Or sawteeth biting into seasoned wood,
There’s something in those sounds which cannot fail
To echo in your heart, Life’s good. (Life’s good.)
And then you want to down your other tools
And only work with maple, beech and pine,
As if to find life’s most exquisite jewels
You need to go inside a single mine.
Yet well you know that everything that’s heard
Are mere sensations coming through the ear,
And be that thunder or a spoken word,
An infant’s gurgle or the grunts of deer.
And, since your hearing’s getting worse with age,
Enjoy each one before you leave the stage.
Photo by Aurora K on Unsplash
Hearing
