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Thoughts
of a Deaf Child
My
family knew that I was deaf
When I was only three,
And since then fifteen years ago
Have never signed to me.
I know when I'm around the house,
I try and use my voice,
It makes them feel more comfortable;
For me, I have no choice.
I try, communicate their way--
Uncomfortable for me.
My parents wouldn't learn to sign
Ashamed or apathy?
I never cared about the sound of radios and bands;
What hurts me most is, I never heard
My parents' signing hands.
Ode
to a Deaf Child…
One
day I saw a little child as lovely as a flower,
She dances and ran, she jumped and turned…
I watched her for an hour.
This
child of God was all the things I'd want my own to be,
Magnificent of heart and limb a curiosity.
But
when God made this little one He didn't give her sound,
He left her in silent world where quiet
is profound.
A
deep abyss, a lonely world, away
from all who hear, To never know the
voice of man in happiness or fear.
And
as I watched her hands make
pictures in the air, A silent unknown
rhythm that I could never share.
For
in this owlrd of silence the hearing rarely go,
Because they lack the picture words it never can be so.
This
causes me to wonder about the world of sound,
What is it that we're missing where the silence is profound?
And
then I knew the answer, it suddenly was there--
To live and love together means people have to share.
Thus
in the world of picture words where pretty symbols flow,
The meanings of I LOVE YOU is there for all to know.
And
so I guess the world of sound will stay a world apart,
Until it learns the picture words, it cannot share the same
heart.
By Philip A. Bellefleur.
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