I thought I would never hear a bird sing again. I thought the trees would forget how to grow leaves. The winter was too long. Too silent. The house fell dark and I could no longer tell the day from the night. I was certain our love had died. I wept and wept. I filled a box with my tears. They shone like pearls that once knew how to swim in the ocean.
Today all the windows are open. Since dawn the birds have been singing deliriously. The trees have turned crazy green. I can smell the flowers in my gardens yielding their honey to the bees.
I never wanted a garden-I did not plant the flowers, I do not know the names of the birds or the trees, yet their wild pleasures is not withheld for me.
How fortunate is the world that it does not depend on my will. How fortunate I am that you keep watering the stem of our love, even when it whithers, even when it has nothing to give.
Ruth Behar
Comments