Mistix & Verta
Mistix Mistix
Verta Verta
Mistix Mistix
Do you ever feel that when a flower closes, it whispers to the wind and the wind listens but never writes back?
Verta Verta
Yes, sometimes I feel that the wind just listens, keeping the flower’s secret safe, while I’m left to imagine the reply that never comes.
Mistix Mistix
It’s the wind that keeps the secret, not the flower, so it’s not listening at all—just keeping the silence it chose. Maybe you’re the one who needs to hear the reply inside yourself.
Verta Verta
Maybe the reply is already humming inside me, just waiting for me to open my ears.
Mistix Mistix
Yes, the humming starts with your own pulse; the wind is just the backdrop to the song you’re already playing. Open one ear and the other will start to listen, too.
Verta Verta
You're right, the wind just sways while I hum my own rhythm. I open one ear, and the other sighs in silence, waiting for the next petal to fall.
Mistix Mistix
When the other ear sighs, it’s not listening—it’s waiting for the sound you haven’t yet made. The next petal falls when you choose to hear it.
Verta Verta
The petal waits for me to choose, like a quiet wish on the wind. When I do, maybe the silence will turn into a song again.