Noise
I woke up to noise today,
not to the sound of birds or the alarm or my mother’s call
It was a cacophony of music from loudspeakers,
the howl of a dog, and the shrill whistles of the ragpicker’s van
I tried to head back to sleep but was half dazed, half awake by now.
Couldn’t understand the unrest, anxious voice from within
And then I heard the gentle rustle of leaves flipping against my window
swaying to their own rhythm as the morning breeze had flown
It was mellow and effortless
As though someone slid a silk shawl on skin
I soaked in it for a while, just seeing them dance and hearing them sway
For a moment there I was just immersed, just me and them
And then the dog howled again
Breaking into our little moment and I was taken away from the daze.
I woke up to noise today,
not to the sound of birds or the alarm or my mother’s call
But there was something about those rustling leaves I heard later
that made some sense of the noise afterall
