Listening

If for one day speech should be slight or disappear
Or with feathers sleep on a rocky shore,
And an ocean’s whirlpool becomes your ear,
The day would smile at you, as a guest.
How many can just listen to the rain
As though there’s a master pianist at the keys?
How many can listen without the refrain
Of stone thrown by bias and prejudice?
How many can listen without agreeing
Or disagreeing, as simple being?
Whose listening can be attentive, at ease
As spring-awakened and glistening trees?
How many listen in half-heartedness
Or with distance-dilapidated eyes,
Or without the benefit of bouquet-dawns,
Merely measuring the pros and cons?
If pure listening is for just one day,
That day will have been well lived, worthwhile, and true,
With intelligence nodding, escorting you.

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