Forgotten Language

Forgotten Language
by Shel Silverstein

Once I spoke the language of the flowers,
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
And shared a conversation with the housefly in my bed.
Once I heard and answered all the questions of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . .
How did it go?
How did it go?

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Trainer/ coach from Washington, D.C. based in Berlin. Enthusiastic gardener, sailor, reader.

3 thoughts on “Forgotten Language”

  1. Really?! I’ll wait for the link on your blog then, shall I?
    I was quite simply in the mood for spring, the birds were singing and the earth smelled divine and I was listening to Van Morrison, specifically “Beside You” and thinking how blessed we are that we have Sunday mornings to ponder and look for lovely poetry and dig for the energy that winter has stolen from us. And I was thinking about Shel Silverstein, RIP, a friend to children and dreamers everywhere.

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