Silence Speaks

When winter forays for a season long stay

                              No one speaks

When trees to drop their leaves and fall asleep

                             No one speaks

When pupils shy away from low-angle rays

                             No one speaks

When the horizon smiles warmed by pink streaks

                             No one speaks

But then one night, I yielded to the winter wind’s words

“Is your soul awake? Can you feel the beat?”

“Ears are not only for sounds, can you hear what’s most profound?”

“Do you see the pain of your cry is all a lie?

“What do you mean? How can that be?” I said scratchily

“If the trees held onto their leaves, they would freeze”

“If the birds refused to leave home, their nests would become icy tombs”

“Trees and bees surrender to winter, why won’t you?”

When I was a freshman in high school, I came home one day and got angry at mom after she had cleaned out her pots for winter. “It hasn’t even frozen yet! Why'd you have to dig out the beautiful flowers?” I remember thinking. Fall is a marvel to behold, but when I hold onto the green of summer it becomes the season of death.

I am amazed by our extraordinary gift of holding onto things, it’s allowed us to communicate at the speed of light, travel at the speed of sound, and given us green ketchup. But sometimes this gift gets us into trouble. Do you hold onto good looks, a clean car, or your visions of how things should be done at work? Are you using your gifts wisely?