The Birds' Song That Only I Could Hear

Creative Writing Prose Poem

It started one day when I was sitting in my garden with my red sweater and blue boots. I was listening to the beautiful sweet birds sing their song.I wasn't alone. I was with one of my favorite people. I asked her if she was captivated by their singing just as I was. She said she couldn't hear a thing. I was surprised. But I kept living the life that no one else could live in my blue boots and occasional red sweater. Then when I was in my favorite place of silent whispers, I heard the flying wonders sing again. I looked around me and no one else seemed surprised. No one else searched the ceiling of the library. I was alone in my delight. I heard these birds. They sang just for me. I hear what no one else hears. In my moments of peaceful thought, there they are. Whispering, singing, sighing their song of love. They sing my moods to me. Then I started to notice him. One day I was feeling my birds' song as I walked through the park. He was there. He looked up and smiled to the world. I hummed the tune in my math class. He gave me a quier smile of surprise and he hummed the rest of it to me. I fell out of my desk in astonishment. I don't remember ever sharing that part of my bird's music with the rest of the world before. I realized this wasn't going to be a what if. This was a what is. Because what if is too defined, and we need a world where things actually can be. So I faced the fact that he and I shared a song. A song that came only to us when we were the happiest. It led us together. I never get sick of a bird's song, it means I am happy. Is this my imagination? Maybe. I guess we are stuck in the same imagination together if that's what it is. But I do know that we are in the same world together and it all started one day when I was sitting in my garden with my red sweater and blue boots.