Silent Corners

 

If I were to stay here long enough, I might still be able to imagine your voice.

It wasn’t all that long ago when you and I sat here, right at his table, to plan our day.

Or sometimes life.

Your voice always managed to fill the room, even reaching beyond this corner. Even when you thought you had been whispering. And once expressed, a spontaneous idea quickly became your inevitable course of action. I always got caught up in your latest schemes because I never wanted to stop hearing your voice.

The times you cried were always the most difficult for me. Over time, I learned that your tears had less to do with some ordinary sadness and more with your uncanny ability to see the world as it really is.

You seemed to have everything you needed to completely shut yourself off from everyone.

But you never did.

And your tears would later flow so naturally, so unassumingly, into that brilliant laughter. As if no daylight existed between them.

Today, there are no more tears. Not yours anyway. And here I am, just trying to recall how one single voice might sound crying out into some big empty space.

Just like it used to be, before you first showed up.

Before you somehow managed to entertain even these silent corners.

Peace

Copyright 2019

Image Credit: Pixabay

 

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