Are we the blossoms of a flower?
Blooming but yet retreating
into our protected element.

Going through growth
do we need a plan
or do we just blossom
and find happiness
in the moments of life's
endless incessant swing.

Changing as the seasons
fly effortlessly yet diversely
by our perception of life.

Your escape to the beauty
to the universe in your mind
in the mountains of the white
among stars snow and fireflies.

There shines always delight
moments of wonder and bliss
like dark blue melts with light
a long pause in front of abyss.

Where does the journey end
or begin? You contemplate
to whom you weave longing
not for world to apprehend.

Belle road is your adventure
the voice not to surrender
and you walk, invisible path
steps vanish yet appear anew.

You look down
in the water's eyes
and in the bottom
of the sea
you see
finally clearly
what you couldn't
see.

Your deepness
Your heart
Your vulnerability
Your evanescence.

Striding thoughtfully for
destination to reach
assembling clever steps
always being close
but not approaching.

That is your horizon
with no end
that is your happiness
your path you transcend.
The closeness of reaching
and touching the bliss
proximity of arrival.

The sun rises above
the white mountain-tops
penetrating air crystals
wondering the beauty.

When the ice melts
it flows down the heart
as the snow breathes
its ceasing stay in visit.

You wonder where
are the melted hearts
you dig down the snow
collecting faded flowers.

Flowers of ice, flowers
of lost illusions and misery
flowers of love and hope
you stitch them all in one.

Is there an edge of forever
the virtuoso about to reclaim
the leap we try to endeavour
and ceaselessly try to aim.

Flowing water pours
its breath to flow
the wind hastily roars
against star glow.

Smell of rose garden
morning dew grass
silky-softened carpet
brittle-laced glass.

Lonely wooden boat
moon-kept blaze barn
eyes closed and afloat
presence is all I yearn.