Senses Unheard Of

I see a baby, making faces at his mother.
He looks to be hungry or maybe in pain.
His lips take a shape and I can only feel pity for him.
His elder brother places his hands on his own ears.
While his mother says something to him.
Her face shows anger to the elder boy.
Yet, is soft and loving to the baby boy

As the traffic halts for the red signal I look into impatient cars.
The drivers pressing the center of their wheels in frustration.
Some sort of blaring noise must surely be created.
Why else would pedestrians and patient drivers be making faces at them?
And out comes a tempered driver,
His brow full of sweat and his eyes flushed red in anger.
He seems to be having a bad day...other than the scratch his car attained because of the car behind him.
And his hands swing in the air as his lips moved so fast.
He probably spoke words in a high volume.
How else would so many people gather to watch the scene he created?

And across the road I see a marching band.
I can see the drummers hitting their drums.
The tempo and speed of their hands kept timing to my heart beat.
Maybe it sounds the same too.
The flute players move their fingers so swiftly over the instrument
I wonder what it sounds like.
It definitely must be making for a celebration,
For the people behind the band cant seem to stop moving.
They move to the timing of the drummers.
And I cant help but imagine the sound to be really lively.
I see their feet lift off the ground and their hands slash the air.
Their heads move in time with each other
And their eyes close to sense just one part of the music...
The sound...

I can't hear what you hear.
I see what you hear.