if the earth was a willow

and you were one too

-would earth be weeping

so gentle and true?

if i was the garden

whereas you could grow

-would you hand me your brAnches

and grant me your love?



in between the lines of your story-flowing through

the pages of a book so well prepared the

words leave more than ashes from your pencil

when it speaks of tiny stories that happened

through these years

I swear that your present reality-disillusioned

obscurity? -will gently wipe away the tears

of wasted seeds



how Can we go through this

-with wounded wing before we learned how to fly

how can i control desires

-when desires burns on a chilly autumn Night?



i will try and make you imagine;

the aura where they stand

is filled with little secrets

-as written in the sand

Naked as a child at birth

a question in disguise

an oasis in a lonely desert

where lonely unknown lands lie



from here and into infinity

-humble and timeless

philosophy-you gently wept away the tears

of wasted seeds



all the days that have left me

and the species i have seen

ahead days will follow

-it was only a dream

though my garden is growing

under skies out of blue,

and it changes Each season

both in colours and in truth

you should know that a willow

-a weeping bed's pillow-

until all days are through



the rain that fall on your branches,

Just yearning

for a source to feed it's primal need

can maKe your beauty blossom from within

with flowers blowing

in the wind-and in seasons to follow....