The Whisper of Grasshoppers

Sometimes I stayed there, lying on the green grass of a flowerbed leaning against a country house. The lawn rustled in the wind that touched each strand of its emerald hair. My little fingers were tangled in its cut short hair. I stroked with tenderness the skull on which I was napping. I listened to the breathing of the trees that bordered my zone of discomfort. I perceived then the discreet arrival of an insect.I could hear this grasshopper approaching in muffled steps to whisper in my ear the story of a world that was unknown to me. I could smile without fear. Alice had her white rabbit, Pinocchio his Jiminy.My grasshopper urged me to become an explorer, to scour the country by following its bounds, marveling. I stayed there, half asleep, and I listened to its escape plan.I needed time to get back from my dreams. I even got up a little bit dizzy and staggering. With a smile on my lips, I walked step by step toward my destiny. I only had to cross the leafy border that separated me from a more enviable elsewhere.Without luggage or goodbye, I left my country to join the tranquility of another more welcoming. I left behind me screams and cries. I abandoned violence and fear. I extended my arms forward and touched a life, ephemeral, of perfect happiness. Freedom !