Shanee R Banda shares the second in her series of poems. Paralyzed are her lips As she struggles a word to say Her tummy flips, tumbles, and turns Butterflies What could be the cause For such a state as this Is darkness her truthful final answer Or is innocence feigned In and out, she breathes Perchance it will calm her nerves Unwanted memories, the barricade break Arrested emotions run wild To discern which leads the pack The mind fails to compute And so silent she remains For what word can she say That would not be a lie Sit still for a moment And look, listen, and observe At first, you’ll see nothing And hear zilch But linger a little longer And as if on cue The sweet fowl will gingerly make their approach One by one, each allowing its presence to be known With song, whistle, or gentle cry They say their hellos As you marvel at their elegant coats How beautifully the colours are blended Black, white, grey, and mustard Blue, green, and brown Dusty pink and grey Orange, purple, and yellow Your ears begin to pick up on more sounds That earlier had been almost non-existent But now so loud, yet so calming The ear, yet untrained, is unable to discern the creature calling But the heart recognizes the presence of more gentle folk in the vicinity You’re not alone All around, beauty pervades Your senses begin to pick up on subtle disturbances The leaf falling and bugs scuttling Sit still and see How there’s much more to everyday Than we give credit What can I say? I don’t kn.
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