My dear friend
just wanted to say I miss the indolent moments spent with you
And I find myself talking to you all alone at night
Of this
Or of that
Songs
Yes songs play
They all sing
Unfound love
Of profound desires
Or of newly discovered joy
Broken connection with time
And some songs
Their voices almost one with God
They play their instruments
Like there is no Next
Forlorn candles flicker
Lighting their own
Solitude
You will find me
Hugging the barrenness of the night
Like I would hold my baby
Then desires
Float by like the butterflies
In a botanical garden
Yellow ones with red spots
Until the light from the windows invade
The light from the room
Then all these is erased
Like the
The tired shepherd
Coming home at
Dusk
Intoarcere la rai, the moment of truth when we can’t hide between any of our unimportant emergencies of the day, when we are with ourselves, when the mind is free to go where the soul needs. Shepherd, a poem of dreaming ... my poem too.
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