The Other Language

When I was a child
I knew not how to speak
I understood not the language of words
But I listened and deciphered
The other language.

I understood the language of my mother
The language of her body
The body that bore pain till mine was ever created
The body that always wrapped me around with love
The language of her eyes
The eyes that wept when I cried
The eyes that shone when my little hand wrapped around her finger
The language of her smile
The smile that she smiled when I smiled
The smile that I woke up to every morning
The language of her care
The care that showed me the most beautiful parts of the world
The care that cradled me to sleep.

Then I grew up a little
I still knew not how to speak
I understood not the language of words
But I listened and deciphered
The other language.

I understood the language of Nature
Of trees that held little homes of birds
Of mountain peaks that touched the sky
Of winds that the leaves swayed to
Of waters that timelessly flowed over rocks
Of flowers that marked the origin of the most beautiful colors
And of seasons that changed to bring hopeful beginnings.

Then I grew older
I still knew not how to speak
I understood not the language of words
But I listened and deciphered
The other language.

I heard now the language of the world
The world that laughed when you fell
The world that envied when you succeeded
The world that sold you to negativity
The world that drowned your inner voice
The world that fed on thoughts of revenge
And that savoured of blood shed.

When I was about to die
I still knew not how to speak
And I chose not to understand
The language of words anymore
So I listened and deciphered
The other language.

I understood the language of silence
Silence that was the language of the soul
Silence that gave birth to strength
Silence that was more honest than words
Silence that contained joy and sorrow alike
Silence that a child is born with
And that one leaves from the world with.

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