The Green Whisper

On ancient stone, mute and gray,
where time only carves its trace,
a green veil, humble, settles and stays,
its minute weave, fragile magic.
Here is born a song that no one will hear.
Not human voice, but a slow breath,
a hymn to the patience of its sprouting.
Every fiber a story, never extinguished
the fire of life, without ever shouting.
It is the cool touch of damp, sweet caress.
Embracing the rock with a tender affection,
nourishing its hunger for silence.
The stone, guardian of a remote bed,
receives the green, its vibrant beginning.
Two worlds united in a silent feeling.
Thus the moss reveals, without ever a word,
the strength that dwells within the small.
A secret whisper, that consoles us,
and invites us to listen for another hour
to the song of life that does not die.