Birds Speaking to you in Silent Language

Hello friends.....

I closed my mouth,
and spoke to you in the language of the rain drops,
I whispered to you in the language of the flowers,
and chanted 'I love you' in the language of the melody birds.

I closed my mouth,
and voiced my feelings to you in the language of the ocean's waves,
and delivered my message to you in the language of the Wind breeze,
I conveyed my feelings to you in the language of the twinkling stars,

I closed my mouth,
and spoke to you in the language of eye contact,
and expressed myself to you in the language of smiles,
I shouted to you in my sacred language of tears,

I closed my mouth,
and whispered to you in the language of heart,
and recited to you in all of nature's implicit language,
I spoke to you, softly, in God's silent language.

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Beneath some fallen leaves
On the forest floor,
Lies a bird silent.
Chirping no more…
The once esteemed beauty
Of his golden feathers,
Are now washed away,
By the rain and awful weather,
His wings are bent and broken
He can barely fly,
The eagle-like heart he once had,
Is now beginning to die.
No one looks up to this bird anymore.
He is just another fallen object,
Lying on the forest floor…
The little bird, as he dies,
Looks up at the blue skies,
And no one even stops to cry,
Or to feel any emotions inside,
As his heart beats its last song,
No one wonders if they have done wrong.
As it was, the bird just needed love
Love, all along.
But there was no one there,
To mend his broken wings,
There was no one there,
To listen to the song he would sing.
The people were too busy,
And too controlled by wealth,
To care at all about nursing a bird,
Back to proper health.
They could not look down,
To the broken, sad, and poor;
And spot a little bird,
Lying there,
On the forest floor,
They could not bend down,
And cup him in their palm.
They could not sooth him,
And make his beating heart calm.
But there was Someone,
Up in the sky,
He watched sadly,
As the little bird slowly died,
His hand reached down,
From the place in the sky,
It carried the bird up, up,
Way up high.
Now the bird is free,
Free again.
Free to chirp, free to sing,
A song of no end,
But, down here,
Where the bird once lay;
On the forest floor,
Things get harder;
Worse than they were before,
More things die,
And drop to the ground.
Things vanish away,
Without making a sound,
And while they are now happy,
We can not ignore,
The bird we left there to die,
On the forest floor.