Soft wind,
tugging at the corners of my scarf.
Silence,
tugging at the corners of my soul.
I liked looking at the world
through the purple fabric of my scarf.

I was busy,
counting stories in the clouds.
The adults prayed,
all around me, they sat, heads bowed.

Silence,
doesn't bother me.
I can tell the best stories,
inside
my head.
I don't need to tell them out loud.
They are my secret.

I look at the people,
bowed.
So many souls.
Or bodies,
my heart tells me they are empty at the moment.
Souls pushed out, on a breath of wind and a whisper of prayer.

I panic.
I don't mind Silence.
But. I don't like
to be alone.

Gentle tug turns menacing.
Wind ripping purple fabric from my hands.
Silence,
overwhelms me.
I need to convince myself
that there is noise.
That there is life,
because
I feel so alone.

And just when these thoughts,
pass,
through my panic.
They rise.
And there is life once more.