The shadow of knowledge
is wonderful but how much
do we actually know?

The matter we perceive is not
a matter to another creature.
Constant change, everywhere
change of matter, change.

The great Tanzanian desert
flowing with sublime sweetness
caresses the mind of bias
with the mystic dunes of music.

The wind which plays shapes
blowing the movement of ash
but is it wind which moves?
The dune moves by itself.

As a walker stepping slowly
the dunes step wisely ahead
making 17 meters per year
a crescent on earth and in sky.

The moon, the sister of the dune
observes its everlasting shape
creeping along the dyne horns
sand cascading into half-moon.

You shatter the windows
and hold your hands
under the falling pieces
of my cracked heart.

How does it feel to feel
the millions of fragments
from every unlike window
of the once glowed heart.

How does it feel to feel
the pieces glowing now
to look at the reflection
of past, present and love.

You can get your way
by talking through it
you can get your way
by having a wit.

You reason your stance
and hoping the best
as you know that you can't
make people impressed.

Things are never achieved
by argument and force
as some might believe
but never win the course.

The reason in your way
is the only helping hand
which helps you to pay
the value of your stand.

In the sun-caressed fields
the stars whispering above
beaming their glowing souls
to look after each other's blaze.

Down there a singing spring
creating its diamonds by flow
with the help of the playful sun
and the calm wise silver moon.

A worm becomes a butterfly
under the curled green leaf
to fly through the distant lands
and find its flower in the eternity.

A dancing dew drop sliding
fondling down a brittle bark
like a teardrop in the wide eyes
spilling into the ocean's bed.

A gravel is sharp and pain
piercing holes in the air
and same as a human in reign
with knives and crown in hair.

Against the wall try to lean
a hand to understand the fear
for you life is to live and read
while the time is there to bear.

The calm of the rain
the smell of the laved air
the cellos sublime hue
mingle in the conscious.

The summer ends quietly
spreading its blanket
on top of flowers and birds
little crystals of evening.

Steps of autumn echo
in the distant aisle of trees
the leaves smile falling
changing their suit
into the colours of a rainbow.

Vivaldi performs gloriously
as the world spins sublimely
giving the nature its stance
the deep harmony of universe
the calm of the rain and heart.

The rawness of music
startles the soul, fading,
magnifying the tones
until you hear the silence
of the entire halted world.

When the flames come
they gulp the essence
the universe plays its melody
and you burn with no ashes
the colours change swiftly.

Dew covers the flowerbed
the moon awaits patiently
until the sun sets a living flame
to the doomed human heart
who owns the ragged throne.