tired of writing,
exhausted with words,
a continous buzz of flies
and flocks of birds
humming across my mind
there is too much noise
turning into white
blinding my eyes
I need to
smell the flowers,
the grass of spring,
the rain on my skin.
I embrace life
and trees, cats,
horses and rivers,
to walk out
in silence
and listen to the song
without words.
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