Forgotten sounds

The charm-filled sound of tropical creatures
Behind the bundled straws that form our home
Sometimes remind me that we are away;
Away from the silence of solid stone.

They are accompanied by the ocean.
Solid, reoccurring, driven and strong.
Tis said that man once silenced the singing,
No utterance of life to be built upon.

Alone and solid and reoccurring,
The ocean would move the moon and sands.
The deep, pellagic and shallow shadows
Unhindered by our terrestrial demands.

Imagine the might of mineral force,
The sounds created in human demise,
Strange and forgotten, conversing bodies,
Evening outdone by symphonic sunrise.

Now we are quartered safe out here
With only glimpses of natures bravo!
To imagine the fathomless and the ceaseless,
Powerful sounds of long, long, ago.

The forgotten sounds may be our story;
Life no more resilient than these walls.
No ears to hear the mecurial noises,
No heart to heed the truth in those calls.

The charm-filled sound of tropical creatures
Behind the bundled straws that form our home
Sometimes remind me that we are away;
Away from the silence of solid stone.

Notes on the inspiration for and elements of the poem:

We were given a preview of Louie Psihoyos’ excellent documentary ‘Racing Extinction’. Early on in the filming you are taken to the astonishing sound archives at Cornell University and treated to the heart breaking recording of the last male ‘o‘o bird.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=4&v=MwxyrLUdcss

Earlier this year we moved to Mozambique to try our hand at marine conservation. http://www.marinemegafauna.org

We live in a straw and wooden hut overlooking the Indian Ocean. The sunrise, sea and birdsong wake us each morning.

Our portuguese teacher told me that the word bravo means stormy or angry and is used to describe the roar of a lion. He also told us that during the civil war you never heard the birds.

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