...with bated breath

I brace myself in solitude
for just one sound
among a sonorous multitude.

I strain to hear it’s delight
like a little girl waiting to hear
the tooth fairy’s footsteps in the night.

I listen as I embark
on a lengthy battle with sensibilities and
silent raging storms in the endless dark.

I don’t dare breathe
For fear that the shallowest whisper
Might cause it’s retreat

For I’ve heard sometimes love arrives like that..
It’s sound the solitary plop...
Of a teardrop on a muddy lake.