Soundings

This poem is a reflection on losing one's hearing, sign languages, with a nod to Walter De La Mare's poem.

Soundings

The knock on the door was unheard
And the traveller left on lonely road
Inside noises were muffled, blurred
As if the sounds found no abode

Silence: lips move but nothing said
Gestures, faces, but never a sound
An inner ear, the destroyed thread
Voices speak but they are drowned

Gestures flow, and gestures speak
No spoken words, but silence voice
Another language, and it’s all Greek
Another culture, and another choice

I take soundings, as I lose my hearing
A different landscape now appearing