The quite one,
The silent one,
They’d call me.
When did it become my identity?
A question I can never answer.
In a world that always wants to stand-out,
I chose to stay quite.
How do I feel?
The sweet songs of the chirping birds,
The temples and church bells ringing far away,
Call to prayers each time,
Wakes up my soul!
What do I hear?
The unspoken words of a stranger
Asking for help
The unexpressed pain of a loved one,
Rouses my compassion.
What do I see?
The undying warmth of the sun,
The lush green trees,
And the vibrance of the flowers
Rejuvenates me!
So, No!
I am not a quite one!
In my stillness,
I absorb
The unseen,
The unheard,
The unspoken,
Words of silence.
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