what he remembers most was that time
when he asks for a glass of water which was denied him
he was angry at first
hysterical about his thirst his view on death that comes like a black horse from far
but he calmed down ultimately knowing that nothing happens anyway
despite his scream
the wind is still the wind that goes out from the hold of the mountain
not ever minding his situation
the trees are cruel too taking care only of their own roots
and so he grabbed silence
he coiled with the ropes of indifference
and take himself for a rock beside a cliff
and then they look for him
regretting perhaps what they have forgotten such a value for a rose
but then he has no eyes as identifying marks and no matter how
they search
despite his presence
they could not find him
now they are all crazy like the tribes driven out from Babel
and he simply watched them all
in silence and indifference
they murmur and cry out in the darkness of their souls
it is time now he says to reap the fruits of his labor.
RIC S. BASTASA
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-fruit-of-his-silence-and-indifference/
