This Sunday in April Rose Marie Raccioppi A gaze upward to the lucent afternoon sky A backdrop of sound baby cooing child's laughter seasoned voices speaking call of mother to child low squeaking of the swinging swing dull thump of a bouncing basket ball cascade of water upon pebble and rock distant chirping of song birds sweetly sounding wind chimes telephone ring of the unexpected caller All within the silent voices of nature beckoning buds and bloom new.