A wee ode to a spring day

Listen--
can you hear this day?
Not the sounds of those cars passing
Not the carefree chatter
of those pedestrians walking by.
No, the sounds of the day that still would be
even if you and I were not.
The sounds of sun-warmed snow as it drips
from icicles, eaves
from scattered clumps of autumn-left leaves.
The sounds of soft, sparkling, breeze-shaken snowflakes
gently pattering from branches to earth.
The sounds of wakening creatures, here--
chuckling pigeon, tiny songbird.
Sounds of new-sprung grass and bush
thirstily drinking of the melt and sun.
Listen--
can you hear this day?