(Tap green flag for sounds) When the birds are chirping, I can hear your voice singing with them and whistling to them, as always. But now the birds sing alone and I don't hear your voice. If I look up. I used to see you sitting in the tree, and reaching down a hand for me to climb up. But not anymore. I also used to see traces of you in the forest, footprints on the moss, a light laugh from the bushes, maybe some scent left that smells mysterious, happy. Calling me. But now I only smell moss, bark and plants. But when I stand on the hill where your body is buried. I can hear your song echoing everywhere, I can smell your fragrance and feel a light pressure on my shoulder. And I know that when I turn around, you'll take me to the place you've been all along, a place where no one ages. A place where the dead live.
