The hidden villages in the mountains
Enjoyed quiet and family,
While watching the progress rush around.
The luxury is over
And things come from the big world
And feelings are drained
From the alpine people.
Get up and get inspired
In this opaque autumn day
That has nothing reserved in its poor pockets
Just for you.
Grab these dead red leaves
And colour your way to work.
Get spinned by this wind of change
And hold on
To those who know love.
The struggle is to simplify
Spotting what makes a true difference
From what makes naturally chaos.
Zooming out of the daily vibrations,
The value of affection and loyalty
Comes through the days of silence
Empowered and solid.
Three tiny suspension points
Keep me hanging from a finger
From my desk.
The text was succint
and the short sentence closed
By a point
But i cannot find the real meaning
That those carefully chosen words
My arms are crossed
And my thoughts far away
When the bell rings.
The day is over
Or does it start?
I head home and fill the last hours
With tenderness and personality
Until the sleep comes
And my heart holds a list
With minute-long experiences and small memories.
Consistency and authenticity
Border the road
Where I roam apparently free.
Direction is forward
On the long term,
But today i will go sideway
And free myself
From the restrain of the map
Of a well accepted career.
Silver and pink will make my office
The sensitivity and hardness of metals
Will match the comfort of my feminine side
And lead the science and the people.
The domestic poetry of proteins
Will join the practically and instability of research.
Just let it happen and distance yourself
By flying to the coming singer
And exploring for the perfect Christmas present
Whole they all waste words.
Nod and consider
W what is really important to you
And take notes
To plan your short but dense free time
And your next knitting project.
On a foot I cruise the lab,
Walking sideways in a diagonal,
I reach my high desk.
I stretch my neck to discover the documents,
Hiding silent in the back,
While the others follow me
with their eyes filled of water.
I march unnaturally
And the strength is artificial
When fighting is not a choice
but the only solution.
I March stiff and serious
For what will come through the door
And not only my body will be overdressed,
On the sunny grass,
I refuse to count the minutes
And abandon myself into the light
And into this book with potential.
In a cone of rays,
Life seems logical
And nature an expected component,
Fast from the arrogant asphalt