you float like an enchanted nebula in my mind,
pass like the clouds inside my veins,
are the easiness of breathing in my dreams
you forget me for millions of seconds in the imaginary time
you are more real than reality itself in your spontaneous combustions
so that I destroy you each day inside my bones,
I ignite the narrative of dawn, the blueness of your ribs
I forget about you like I forget crying in the aliveness of lovers
I need to forget you like one forgets faraway explosions, storms and miracles because I love you with all the songs of the wind,
the wind that spreads the seeds further away from each other the same way the flow of mystery so precise is carring us further and further away towards ourselves

The tree knows nothing
but how to be only
what it is..

   the wind blows,
   and it responds..

And embedded within
  the treelines
are the little-ones  hiding;

There is a safety
within the  simplicity
of the groves..
Outside the treeline
danger lurks

Little Spirits  were born
with their little  freedoms  intact--

In freedom.. they are only
drawn out  by Love