20: Soundscape

a poem a day in the month of may

Friends,

How are we? This month is flying by, and I want to thank you again for being here. If you don’t write poetry, thank you for being here. If you’re writing, thank you. If you’re skipping by these to get back to our regular programming, thank you for sticking around!

Wherever you are, whoever you are—thank you, chii migwetch, so glad you’re part of this community.

Today’s word is soundscape.

I’ve spent the last few days at a friend’s small house in the woods of Northern Ireland, and the sounds here are quiet, the chattering of the birds and the near-silent opening of the spring flowers becoming the tender backdrop to my writing.

A soundscape wraps us up and holds us. It lulls and comforts us, tends to our wounds, quiets our minds. What does your soul soundscape sound like?

Photo by Mykola Kolya Korzh on Unsplash

Photo by Artur Nasyrov on Unsplash

The soundscape that lulls
me to sleep tonight is the
sound of the neighbor next
door, his quiet snores slowly
giving way to the quiet of the
evening.

We often use a box fan to
help us sleep, so maybe it’s
always about moving the air—
from our bedroom out the open
window, from our lungs into
the room that holds us, a
constant soundscape of
in-and-out, reminders that we
are still deeply alive.