Some Pieces #10: Silence Is a Killer
I was once waiting for the birds to chirp on the trees in the early days of spring. The snow melted and they never came to peek at the window. I saw the birds flying South. They never grew back their feather. I was once waiting for my fellow to greet the fresh taste of the honey. The flowers were stolen, and they were unable to open their seeing. I heard the bears' snoring in caves. They neglected the light before their eyes. I waited the world to be filled with color. Every month was as white as snow. Or as grey as the clouds of rain. I witnessed growing roses. Blue and red were living in every hollow. No breeze ever kissed me without the bitter taste of blood. The wind sent me messages of the immortal. "Be resilient," they said. "God sees and hears." I stood still, hearing the thunder sculptured new stories underneath scars. The world is always noisy; people are deaf. They hide...