The voice is not from color of the leaves but from the lush words they utter, in the glossy sentences they form from rain and summer, the green syllables they whisper. Have you ever listened closely with your eyes? You have to seek the silence, go where birds are speechless on a doldrum day, go close and then go closer. The voice of leaves is deep and slow, you have to wait, be patient. Listen with your body, listen to its scent and to its sheen. You will know it well. The voice of leaves is yours, it is your mother’s voice, your voice from dreams.
raising from granite
when crumbled into gravel —
single leaf of grass
Today Frank hosts Haibun Monday at dVerse. Write about the silent voice, your inner voice. Everything is so very green at the moment so I had to let the leaves talk.
May 28, 2018