I am here
pink rose in presents.
Dance with me now
neither in the past
nor in prospects.
Dowse your thirst
in the spring of silence
inside the voice of others,
in the gaps of peace
dunked in deafening
mundane murmur of concerns in you skull,
like rain water
salubrious
on the bezels of desert rocks.
Savour these feelings.
Fly with me,
over this carriage of currents
rolling on clockwise wheels of life
and counterclockwise of death,
for ever.
And join this journey
out of the stalemate of time.
Wonder
without strangling yourself
with the strands of your worries.
Repeat us in sways
of another move
on the chessboard of now.
Savour these feelings
oar with me
against this trend of currents
running clockwise
on the wheels of our days.
