Poets for Science
Global Gallery

Sound Wave’s Soliloquy

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Suppose your very existence
could never be created 
nor destroyed, 
but depended entirely 
on the Olive-sided Flycatcher —
dressed in his gray-brown feather vest
perched upright atop 
the tallest late tree limb
wing tips outlined 
in a dapper white
sallying for insects
and swooping back to perch.

Suppose the sun’s short absence
behind the nest’s horizon
and sudden reappearance 
was answered in bursts 
of sharp morning songs
coaxed by the gladness of the syrinx 
into duet with the ellipse 
of the solar system itself 
and in each episode 
of sun and bird vocal rendezvous 
you were born again — longitudinal wave 
of high-pitched song 
vibrating surrounding air molecules,
riding the chain reaction,
piercing the silence with your impulse
until collisions break the disturbance —
and we wait 
for the next build in bird breast, 
the next instance of sun-stimulated syrinx 
to sing us back into waves of sound.