If a cactus could speak, what would it say?
Would it comment on the weather,
or perhaps give a passing hello to hikers and mountain lions alike?
Would it complain of the heat, of having to hold up its branches each day, of the birds pecking at its side in hopes of a nest?
But no, the cactus stays silent,
the quiet guards of desert mountains.
If an ant could speak, what would it say?
How would he describe the weight of the world on his shoulders
as he carries leaf after leaf after leaf to his hilly home?
Could he relate to the human, a mobile skyscraper?
No, he scurries off silently,
separating himself from the people above.
If skyscrapers could speak, what would they say?
Complain of the abuse by construction workers,
building them up to only be mercilessly used by others?
Comment on the beauty of the skyline they help create?
But we will never know, only wonder. And some will note
how frequently is it that those who can’t speak
are those with the most to say.
Really, anything else is to know is already being blogged or Tumbl'd about.