Whispers of the Wild

I walked where the trees don’t speak— yet somehow, I heard everything. The wind and the trees held secret meetings, and the leaves nodded in agreement, like spectators dressed in green. The waters didn’t rush— they marched steadily down the riverbank, telling stories in ripples— of rain that once fell, and mountains they had kissed on the way. The sun appeared, golden and gentle. Snakes and lizards lay still, watching its every move, careful not to miss a single step that warmed every corner of the land. And the birds— they sang and danced to the rhythm of the wind, and to the slow ripening of wheat and corn. Even the silent waters grew bold— I could hear their rhythm as they carried a message toward the sea. A message sent by the kings of the mountains to the queen of the tides: "Remind the man who rides the wooden boat— to plant more trees. For when the last tree falls, there will be no boat strong enough to ride the rising tide." — By Davie Kaliu