It is in these quiet moments, I can hear the wind in the palms as it were a symphony playing. When a coconut falls to the ground, it almost sounds like the beating wings of a bird in flight. All is silent until it falls.
It’s a silent touch when look me with longing eyes. I listen and wait for the taste of that honey sweet. It’s that anticipation that speaks to me; a taste so much more than mere words can whisper.
You see, there are no words for some things. Just us and the day without the linguistic gymnastics. For you see, there is not a simple sound that can express my true devotion.
It is in the action, in the brush of your fingertips across soft skin. It’s in the fluttering of my heartbeat, and in the sighs of my content. Words and deeds forged and wed, chiseled in trust.
Love lives in these quiet moments; in the jungle hushed; in the king coconut singing out with flavours just the same, and with every sound and with every breath; I can still hear your name whispering silently among the trees.