Forgotten Language Shel Silverstein

Once I spoke the language of the flowers
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings
And shared a conversation with the housefly in my bed.
Once I heard and answered all the questions of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . .
How did it go?
How did it go?