A Picture of Its Own Sounds

In the ghastly town near the Brooke
There was a small chime that made soothing sounds
And ever so often I would
Gaze upon its mastery
Of how good I felt listening to it.

There was a crisp morning after the dawn
And the crystal clear water was showering over the small pond
Where lillies were floating
With peace to the world
And the sounds grew louder.

There was a small crack in the rocks
That flushed into the whole pond with water trickling outward
In a hurry to meet it's end
It's destination
From its place of birth.

And I sat down in between the melody
Where the sounds would resonate together in perfect harmony
Where the birds chirped
To the growling sounds
In the underbrush.

And I had yet to understand
What all this had meant in a world where sound was everything
And so I paused
And observed
And waited.

And knowing that the melody was a way of nature
And what nature showed me was the true beauty of its own kind
What it wanted me to see
A picture
Of its own sounds.

(c) Mitul Magu
26 August, 2016