I think that…
"If the flowers in the meadows could speak,
or the raindrops as they fall,
or perhaps the summer winds,
or the children at their birth..."
THE WORLD WOULD CHANGE
For if they could speak, perhaps they would tell stories of the seasons, of the hands that pick them, and of the gazes that admire them. They would reveal the joys of the lovers who declare their love beside them—and also the tears of those who leave them on lonely graves. Their voice would be a whisper of beauty, tenderness, and resignation.
If each raindrop could talk, it would tell us about its journey from the clouds to the earth. Perhaps it would warn us about the pollution it feels on its skin or remind us of the joy of the dry fields as they receive it. It would be a fleeting chronicle of the eternal cycle of water—a testament to life itself.
Or the summer wind, if it could learn to speak, would be a restless troubadour. It would tell us of the seeds it carries, of the whispers it steals among the treetops, and of the laughter it gathers in the playgrounds. And perhaps, also of the nostalgia of leaving—for it never remains in one place for too long.
And children, at their birth, would speak in a pristine language that only attentive hearts could understand. They would remind us of the original purity of the human being—the miracle of life renewing itself with each heartbeat. And each breath would be infinite peace, that calm of Heaven that pure souls bring when they descend.
If they spoke… we would know the truth.
If everything spoke, there would be no room for hypocrisy or deception. We would know what the earth feels when it is wounded, what the sea suffers when it is filled with plastic, and what the animals cry out for in the devastated forests. We would know the true history of our humanity—written not in books, but in the voice of that which has always been there, silently watching.
Perhaps that is why the world remains silent: to give us the opportunity to listen, without words, to the deep beat of life—and learn to care for it without needing to be asked out loud, by the roar of volcanoes, the floods of tsunamis, wars, hatred… poverty, or hunger.
