The Little Things
One day it will stop.
Look out your window and imagine that.
One day the blue birds will stop chirping their exasperating melodies, in search of a mate.
One day all the movement in the ocean will crawl to a standstill as they float to the top, unable to escape the poison.
One day the bees will finish their never ending plight and the silence of their termination will shake us to our core.
One day even the lowly dandilion will cease to bloom, leaving behind only their unused wishes and hushed hopelessness.
One day all the beautiful little maybes will be gone from the world, and we will wither away and wait to join them in the peace and quiet we so deserved.
Maybe one day is tomorrow, the stakes seem higher now. All I know is when I stop to listen, the silence is deafeningly loud..