By: Don Pax
He struts and preens, a peacock’s pride,
His tongue was a weapon, sharp and snide.
“I’ve seen it all,” he boldly claims,
While wisdom quietly disclaims.
Each careless word, a pebble tossed,
Creates a ripple, something lost.
The cosmos listens, ever near,
To every whisper, laugh, and jeer.
Oh fool who thinks he knows it all,
Your vain talk builds a prison wall.
The truly wise speak less, hear more,
And leave their ego at the door.
His boasts echo in empty halls,
As substance from his speech now falls.
The weight of words, he fails to see,
How they shape reality’s decree.
In silence lies the greatest truth,
In listening, eternal youth.
The universe, in whispers soft,
Speaks volumes to the soul aloft.