Silence by Yasi

Unclear thunder,

The era of narrow solutions,

The sound of my panting with limited depth.

Sohrab’s sorrow and his delicate touch . . . 

The darkness and the rise of a moth in the quietest moments 

And the footstep of a little girl in a boundless farm, 

A ragged handmade doll with raptures of love, 

And my heart that traveled every inch of farmland with anxiety and love.

Sohrab’s voice percolates within me:

“There is a voice that calls me from afar.” 

Sohrab is alive and present in my heart.

My strides have changed, and my outlook is more natural.

I have traveled to another time, a time 

“When no one polluted the water”;

A time that

“People abated with the beats of the window.”

Being Sohrab requires one to tolerate pain.

It needs an infinite amount of silence and loneliness such that 

“You can be wide and lonely, innocent and bashful.” 

It is the loneliness that makes you acquainted with silence.

If you have not borne aloneness, silence is a challenge that needs to be overcome.

Being Sohrab requires generosity—generosity of forgiving and being forgiven.

If you are Sohrab, you are not popular.

You are going to be isolated, but silence becomes your best teacher.