The Sound of Silence
"Show me where it hurts and I'll kiss the pain away."
At least, that's what you used to say.
Your death is quite the stark contrast to the beauty of this day. Beautiful beyond words, nevertheless, you could teach it a thing or two. Could have. Once upon a sometime ago when there was a me and you; back when we were old, yet so very new. Like the sun glistening off the fresh drop of morning dew that fell from the leaf and was lost in the ground, your light was snuffed and disappeared without a single sound.
Monitors were screaming. Doctors and nurses were rushing hither and thither. Instruments were passing this way and that. Back and forth, in and out, to and fro', all 'round about.
And, in my arms, your baby beaming, laughing, giggling, completely unaware of how his tree had begun to wither; the innocent mouse falling prey to the corona cat, trapped in a corner, one way out.
So much commotion, promises and lives, like a fireworks' finale, exploding in a colourful chaos.
I can still hear that silence now; and it is so. . .
. . . loud . . .