The little
flower was
content,
safe from
the winds
of the world,
then, the days
sprouted her
body upwards
to the sky,
she found
it tiresome
to grow while
the poet
of the world
painted the
leaves
golden
to green,
finally, she
can gently
sing for the
clouds as
life became
greater in
color and
beauty,
until the
white blanket
of heaven
takes her,
and, she
is reborn
in some
other time
and place.

jumped in the skin of dreams
- nights reign over day

many strangeness found there;
and we found there too;

goodbye to past lives
we always said

as we wandered here and there
hoping to find old friends

and as always the remembering
the remembering of broken dreams