“If you listen closely,
You can hear the Earth’s heartbeat,”
My neighbor once told me.
Three years,
Seven months,
And nineteen days later, he
Died.
The day after the neighborhood tragedy,
I pressed my face against the green turf
And I decided to just listen for once.
I could hear the crumbling tires caressing the gravel
And the low droning footsteps walking – walking faster.
I lay on the umber dirt -
Silent, still, watching.
There was some futile commotion
That I could faintly hear
Back by the grassy field.
I stood there in front of everyone -
Silent, still, watching.
The nomadic wind swept away the lost words,
And the Earth’s heartbeat stopped,
And all was at peace,
Just the way it should be.