Do You Hear?

Ever the patient tutor, the universe
rarely shouts, barely raises her voice
above a conspiratorial whisper. She
will lean in, when she must, and will
pierce an eardrum, or two, in extremis.
But she prefers to let her pupils come
to her, drawing them in on the silk
thread of her sibilant song, so soft 

                            one must strain to listen.