Poem: Silent Bystanders

The quiet ones
hold the most secrets
they speak them
to the wind
to the soil
let the earth hear
with every grain
that slips through
their fingers.

Tell your story
to the clouds
and let their tears fall
in cold droplets
upon the seeds
that lie buried,
asleep until the
bloody flowers erupt
in the springtime.

The stars witness
every triumph and atrocity
as they crawl in slow motion
an eternity in a second
a lifetime in a blink
but they say nothing
mute and not revealing
the ending to the tale
although they know.