Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Nest Is Empty

I've always wanted to hear you,
Perhaps clumsy as you claim;
I want your sounds.  Instead,
You write long lines and stanzas on your life
And on the destiny of mankind.

But I want to hear them;
Your sighs, your fragrant tones,
Words uttered, not written.

The nest is empty.
I cannot stay alone in winter;
I can't enjoy the bloom of trees in spring
When leaves fall and fly through the air.
Autumn goes away without me,
Summer shines and sends me its burning laughs,
Roads tarred with vitumen and rubber
Show me mirages, water flowing ahead...

I have traversed continents and seasons
To hear a sound from you.
I've become a tearful lad plucking grassroots
To write my lines into your eyes,
To hear your cries of ecstasy.

Far distant, you stay within or chirp outside;
You may roar or sing, 
But I need to hear you.
I call you in the wilderness,
My noise echoes and returns.
Valleys laugh at my madness,
Still, I want to hear you.

Long passages are written,
Emails fill the trash in the inbox of my desires;
Have you spammed my pleadings? 

Once, only once, tell me something, 
Scold or praise, pour forth accusations
Or screech in the dense wood of emotions.
It's your noise I lack...

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