Only Have To Listen Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Secretly finding puzzles lying beneath the surface,
a performance of quiet purpose lying in wait, hap-
hazard voices, instrumentally being heard.

Stepping, tip-toed, behind the steady beat of another
time, melodies flying, soaring into the atmosphere un-
heeded.

Softly, whisperingly sounds of an instrumental concert,
bringing together many rhapsodies that can be seen and
heard throughout the world.

We only have to listen for it's essence as we prepare
to fall asleep in midnight hours, hoping no nightmares
will interrupt sweet dreams.