“What If Leaves Could Scream” :

May 4, 2017
By , London, United Kingdom

If white, glittering condensation glistened onto the meadow-green stork;
If tangled, plaited daisy chains flashed their yellow, white-flamed smile;
if a copper-coloured harp played music that whispered in their ears;
If their volume buds; tweaked and cried; if the notes fluttered into their hearts,
If May brought blooms of white sunflowers; if lilies dropped from the leaf, if soiled mud            
fed its thirsty mouth; if blood pattered down from its vast, tunnel-like mouth,
If flowers on Valentine’s day kissed a day of posies onto the garden rose bush;
If tiny chocolates painted with pink swirls cascaded down to the picture-perfect frame;
if clouds thundered up ahead; to the pretty noise of golden fairies who clustered in the pond
life;
What if drops of water fell from the leaf, a bed-shaped abandon of love cards; and a
snowstorm of rain, falling onto the harp as a beautiful note, that plays its lyrics; like a swan
call from a south-bound bird.

What if the fingertip-shaped waterfalls; that arise from a muddied hill; are more than just
liquid that mixes its saliva with human hands; what if those water-coloured coins; are the
bands of lovers; rose pink and in bloom, as they join hands, and link the water with kisses.
What if the wind blown on a leaf stork; crying, is breathing the same words as you;      
What if it express dialogues in a play, what if it wants to be like you?
What if the seeds that germinate in the pool; rich and azure, are alive, babies who splutter;
Who dream, who blink; who sleep,
Who gaze out through black lashes at the blue-streaked sky; and lie down in wait, in wait for
the bag of sisters and brothers, like gold coins; who will spill onto the blood-ridden grass, and
fly away through the clouds; pass through the thin scenery.

What if emerald buds stud and star; in the grey-stained, disintegrating ground,
What if friendships made in view of the moon-tinted sun, are ended without a sound;
What if white and green and ivory shades, that used to be leaves are
made into prettier daises of gold and cream;
What if leaves could scream? . 






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