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The snail
Sneaks through the leave
Hides from the storm
Nothing keeps ever from

Happening always Again

Ending and starting
Trying to find myself
To take a breath in
And a breath out
Getting out of the shelf

Things get broken sometimes
So why to keep them
Not everything rhymes
But you still need to blend

The past is such a great hit
If you have good memories
We all have one.

No need to dig too deep
Find some treasures
And be on the run!
That snake shape queue you were in
Aligned with my destiny
Brought our first words into being.
An interesting ping pong warm up exchange
Of facts and opinions
So irrelevant to the world
Gave origin to a great talk.
One we could breathe trust
And curiosity.

I remember the silent travelers around us
Probably hearing our conversation
A young couple even, considering our chances
We shared the same line of seats
Three hours passed like nothing.

Then one day I called your mobile
Hoping this would trigger something further
A hope is like a two way ticket
That wants no return
That phone call did shorten the physical distance
But you seemed much farther away.
I wonder if any ever asked
If we are fixed by the skin
Or from the soul

If the flower is kept from its color
Or from its root

If we are born for making mankind
Or being one

Because the paint on the wall
Will vanish and the bone will perish
But our hearts are already eternal.
The seed was buried
Forsaken through the winter
Hidden into the earth
A poem in the drawer.

Then over a morning dew
Unseen hands of beauty
Delivered the Lily anew
Its glow of purity.

As it grew fast and firm
The flower would soon become
The season's blast of charm
That draw with its perfume.

The time of the story came
When hands now full of shame
Pulled out Lily's apart
And broke also my own heart.

But flowers are never ceasing
Since they connect with earth
And shalow they rest purifying
Exhaling when they rebirth.
To the lilies out there ;)
Your soft voice
Is so gentle
A breeze under the door
A poppy on a green field
Wanting to get noticed

I try to hear
To grasp where it comes from
The life who carries that voice.
Like a bee under the wind
Wishing to get by
Doing her job

You say farewell
Like the last inch of a Sunset
on the Horizon
You leave a Purple tone
A screen of Beauty
in my Heart.
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