A Poem: A sound

At first a sound is low,
a soft and subdued pitch,
but then it grows and fills,
the small and slated box.

Far off in the distance,
a silence fills the space,
where eyes are closed with lids,
that block the sound that flows.

Then in the slated box,
the sound does grow with pitch,
it flows through a cycle,
as it does fill the room.

A dart through air is thrown,
and it does reach the ears,
and with a metal key,
it does unlock the eyes.

Without a conscious thought,
the mind is so controlled,
and life does burst awake,
as it does sense the sound.

The limbs then move about,
at first in imbalance,
but then as they do try,
they find the flow of steps.

And through the door of sound,
into the filled poor space,
the arms do reach and hold,
what then did cause the sound.

The cause then feels the arms,
and with a second key,
the sound does flow away,
as silence fills the space.