I walk through Sinharaja
where the echoes used to dance
Now it’s quiet like a whisper
A pin drop silence

The ground is bare
Stripped from the storm
Leaves scattered like dreams
All tattered and torn

Through muddy reflections
I search for a trace of what we once shared
Like mother earth after floods
Whole thing absorbed without a trace

Your deafening silence cuts deeper than a knife
Treading on the most sensitive spots
Nevertheless,
A healer heal thyself as does the Mother Earth