THE SILENT MUSIC
He could have been a cedar planted among cedars; indistinguishable from the rest all swaying in unison to the silent music of the wind. He could have been a cedar because at the end of the day he wasn't afraid to be a nobody. He knew he was just like the others and this knowledge rooted him against the storms of fall and ice of winter. His solid cedar heart was never twisted with the longing to fly above the rest as a bird flies. He watched his friends splinter as their branches reached for an unattainable horizon and he knew that they would never be happy. He marveled that the sky could break one's heart simply by being. Up there. Unattainable. He felt his roots reach deep into the black earth softly pressing against him on all sides the way his mother did before he could even remember. He was alive. He was happy. Swaying softly to the silent music, far beneath the sky.