When you had created a far achieving plan,
that each, came to the rendezvous of
your design, a bizarre you was done.
But happiness knocks at the other door.
When love confuses difference, peace
makes it only in moment, freedom's path
blinded, but hope never loses its meaning.
But there's absence of hope.
(When she said her goodbyes the glass fell
and I broke.)
How like it is a nobody a solitary pole, on
such abandoned street, without anyone
sharing them directions of who you are.
There's a life not found inside me and
in yours, too--these thoughts of yearning...
and that, it can only exist in us, together.
Happiness is at the stars, moon and clouds...
when you're just in your room,
an angel at the kitchen, the sky surrounds you.
When words are just words, when words
forgot why you were the flower,
the flower had become you.
The sky is the sea, a bird flown out
the water--earth coloring itself.
No one is plain solitude,
not even a monk in its remote cell,
not even in the most unmerciful ways,
like a gloomy weather of a Sunday morning,
or the little message against the sea,
lost in the tides of air,
somewhere there in the many street--
no one is alone for the waiting.
glens "After" Festive
- 16 years, 3 months, 16 days ago
