Often, now, human noise

Presses in

And destroys my equanimity

Like a strong man in a drunken rage

Ransacking my study

Leaving me quivering in a corner

Hoping not be noticed and killed

But each time I escape

Because God stands before me

And gently distracts the drunk

Who doesn't really mean ill

But is currently incapable of reason

Letting him batter away his energy

Destroying things that I can replace

In less than a day's time


Oftentimes, humanity's noise does that

I don't know why

It oftentimes does

But sometimes, and growing more frequent

The sound of the world

Is a child in a cuddly mood

Who headbutts my arm for a bit of attention

(Clearly, he's been taking his cues from the cat)

And maneuvers it so that my arm

Is 'round his slim torso

Hand resting on upper arm or waist or belly or hip

And his head leans against my shoulder


Sometimes, now, and growing more often

The pulse of the world is not

A clamorous assault

But a comforting thump and rustle of breath

A reminder and assurance of life

Something soothing and warm and gentle

It is the solemn and joyous knowledge

That I am not alone in this world

And never will I be

For God is good and faithful


Even the construction outside my window

Is not so grating as before

Still irksome, aye

But like the shouting of children after a long day

When you just want peace and quiet

But you know that sound is a promise of future


Sometimes, now

And increasing in frequency as it matures

That child, the world's sound

Does not beat at me with toys or kick or hit

Heedless of its strength

Stronger than it knows

And instead reminds me to whistle

Or cheerfully hum

Or sing as I do the dishes

Because, aye, the world is noise and noisy

But it's not all cacophony

And I can contribute to the good


With God's help

Both I and the child are growing

And in God I have peace


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