Since this morning,
the foggy time has stood still
I don't know why,
recalling the past moment
like the pages of a diary turning,
some incomplete lines,
some unfulfilled dreams
The banyan tree peeking through the window,
looks a little too dense
The birds haven't flown away in search of food
They're still chirping,
as if they want to see the sunrise
I'm pulling a strand of wool from a knitted sweater,
turning the sweater into a ball of wool
A cloud has descended, at the doorstep
and wants to sit me down and take me away on its wings
In a world where light is all,
where the cloud provides shade but does not darken
From the adjacent shrine,
a strong whiff of friction penetrates my body and throws me back
within the confines of the room
Hanging on the wall
is an old photograph of yours
that still trembles with joy
holding my hand
No, dear, I will not renounce.
I will proceed on the inner journey
holding your hand
I have chosen a middle path between wilderness and beauty
Thank you so much for reading. Have a great day 馃槉馃檹 
