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On Hearing Well

Though I love to hear cicadas sing at nightfall, And pounding waves on rocks can lift me high, Yet walking in a still and tranquil woodland Provides the calm I need as time goes by.

Joyfulness bursts forth with morning birdsong And calling quail can bring that joy quite near, Still the vision of one silent eagle soaring Gives off vibrations just my soul can hear. Once the drama of a raging storm is over, And raindrops falling softly down begin, And clouds reflect a rainbow’s glowing colors, Then gladness lights a candle deep within. So deafness creeping in as I grow older Does not disturb the inner path I walk. The world remains the same in spite of losses And I’m content in knowing fawns don’t talk.

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