The Voice of the Speaking Silence of Life
What would Life's Silence tell you if you could listen to
its Voice?
What would the lying yellow, browinsh or even reddish dried
tree leaves could tell you if they ever decided to talk to you?
'It's Autumn. Yes, time has come; For everything to go back
to sleep and wake up again in Spring. It's
time to remember that nature bears 4 seasons like the moon bears itself
its own way of sleeping ; under the thriving sunlight. But the moon is always
here, near you, accompanying you, hugging you even when you wake up. The moon
and the sun. The sun and the moon.
Where is Love laying? Onto the Sun or onto the moon?
Love is laying onto the Light.
This is where Poetry lies too. Onto the Light.
The Light which has as many shades as the phases of the moon or the sun, the Light which has as many shades as the eyes that can perceive it even hidden behind the dark clouds. '
Poetry is stable like the indisputable value of Love itself. Poetry is mute like the wounded hearts who dared to love but found no response. Poetry is palpable like a mum's move for her newborn. Poetry is. Poetry seems empty but is not. Poetry is full once you read it and you let it embrace you.
by Maria Papamargariti , 29th September 2023
