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The Sound Of A Daffodil Opening.

 

                      
The Sound of a Daffodil Opening.

Late one evening, while rereading something I had just written, I heard a faint crack from the pot of daffodils sitting on the table beside me. At first I thought I had imagined it. Then it came again. Sitting alone under a single lamp in a silent house, I realised the buds were opening. I wrote this immediately while the moment was still fresh.

The Sound of a Daffodil Opening

It's late in the evening.
I'm alone at my table.
The house lies in darkness
save for a single lamp.

I sit wrapped in the silence,
just how I like it.

Only the distant clock —
tic… toc… tic… toc…

My hand guides the pen
back and forth across the page,
turning thoughts into words
and words into stories.

The silence breaks —
not by a neighbour's dog
nor a passing car.

There it is again.

I stop and listen.

A tiny, fragile crack.

On the table beside me
the daffodils begin to open.

Petals stretching slowly
from their winter sleep.

I sit very still
in the circle of lamplight,
listening carefully
as one flower opens…
and then another.

There are many still to come.

Alone in the quiet
I feel quietly privileged
to hear something so small.

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