Parsing Ocean

Suzy Harris

The ocean sounds like symphony–violins 
especially. I hear their vibrato 
in the crashing waves. Bilateral now,

one sound processor for each deaf ear,
this stereo, this surround sound,
stuns with musicality. And yet,

the next day, the ocean sounds 
like ocean again, all swell and pull,
rush and hush, breath of the world.

I wonder, then, if the ocean is always 
orchestral, but I don’t hear it, or 
was yesterday a sort of slippage, 

glimpse of a different universe 
where ocean is always orchestra, 
earth always percussion,

trees pianissimo? Rocks—well,
the music of rocks is the same everywhere:
thrum of arrow, harp string quivering.

The Science

Cochlear implants are small electronic devices that provide access to hearing for people who are deaf or severely hearing impaired by bypassing the damaged parts of the inner ear. There are two pieces connected by a magnet: an external sound processor/transmitter and an internal electronic array that receives the sound and connects to the auditory nerve. Signals generated by the implant are sent by the auditory nerve to the brain, which learns to translate the electronic signals back into language, music, and other environmental sounds. Because sound is transmitted electronically, it does not always sound “normal”, especially at the beginning, until the brain learns, through practice and exposure, what the electronic signals mean. 

I grew up as an essentially hearing person as my hearing loss was not identified until my early 20s. I suspect I did have hearing loss as a child, though not identified as such. I have a chapbook, Listening in the Dark, about my hearing journey, which includes a poem called "Fallibility," about failing a hearing screening at school in second grade, and my pediatrician's reaction. 

With cochlear implants, which I received in 2018 and 2021, there is a process of teaching the brain to recognize not only language but environmental sounds. This poem is about a time after the second implant when I was at the beach, hearing in a rich stereo for the first time in ages, or perhaps ever. And yet, when I went back the next day, the sound was different—was it my brain adjusting or some other phenomena?

The Poet

Suzy Harris lives in Portland, Oregon. Her poems have appeared most recently in Poeming Pigeon, Willawaw Journal, and Wild Greens, among other journals and anthologies. Her chapbook, Listening in the Dark, about hearing loss and learning to hear again with cochlear implants, was published by The Poetry Box in 2023. She is a retired attorney who is grateful to embrace the poetry world.

Next poem: Periodiku by Tom Kuntzleman