Editor's Note: This is a collaborative poem inspired by Pablo Neruda's "The Book of Questions".
What did the waves say
looking out at the howling wind?
Is there anything in the world more quiet
than a mouse scurrying from place to place?
And what did the orange juice think
of the beautiful sun setting behind the hills?
What did the fall leaves say
floating before the setting of the evening sun?
And what did the bar of chocolate say
lying on the cake that came out of the oven?
What did the peaceful music being played by a violin say
listening to the wind, skimming through the woods?
Is there anything in the world more quiet
than the empty desert at night?
And what did the pillow as white as snow say
standing before the fluffy, warm blanket?
What did the cricket chirp
crawling beneath the birds gliding in the morning sky?
What did the loud cicadas hear
when someone whistled a tune?
And how did the crowds cheer
to the small bells ringing?
What did the cricket chirp
crawling beneath the birds gliding in the morning sky?
What did the loud cicadas hear
when someone whistled a tune?
And how did the crowds cheer
to the small bells ringing?
