Chirps

Isabella

I hear the birds chirping

And I listen to what they say

They tell me secrets of many.

Even so, their silence overwhelms me.

I feel their waiting

Patiently, patiently

What are they waiting for?

I ask them, desperate,

But they just sing their songs in return.

Slowly, their chirps grow into cries of agony

And their wait grows no more.

Their broken, beautiful harmony

Becomes empty.

I listened to their chirps too long.