What hides in the grass
Grown in this day of transition?
Fruits like Easter eggs
Are hard to see,
Yet precious and rewarding
For the eye of the naïve.
Work, health, friends, emails, future plans
Are ripening hidden in the green
Of hope and routine.
A full day on my shoulders
And lots of satisfactions
Point towards a new direction.
Taking time to notice,
Each gesture is a responsibility
And a plan for the future.
Even today you can
Break free
Through the little break in their attention.
In that second others ignore,
You will change your path
And will never feel
Imprisoned on a sunny day
In a fruitless office.
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 owl turns its head
And searches for a better company
In the spontaneous thick foliage
Of the park.
Its feet are still and solid,
They know the here contain a spot of love
And do not want to leave.
The house has black windows
When i pas by worth my heavy bag
And good-intentioned heart.
The day is ending
Yet I save the pleasure for the last hours
Of solitude and determination.
Walking alone in the night,
Watching a movie in silence,
And tomorrow I will smile
in and out.
Reality hits you
like a pan on the face
when you walk quietly home
or wait for a bus you do not care about.
You will feel its hit
making your eyes wet
and a sad version of your your future
come into focus.
Your legs will rebel and you will search for alternatives
from that moment on.
The sun shine
But my fire is on
Angry and avid as ever.
Angry for the undetermined present,
Avid for the slowly coming future,
Both out of reach
Although in sight.
The year just started
And you want to predict it’s content.
As a sealed envelope
It has no apparent weight
Nor influence today
But what a difference
Each of its days will make
On our work, love, dedication.
Crispy air of the winter,
Tickle my cells and frees my ideas
While my hands race my intentions
And type wild on the keyboard.
My neurons giggle
at the thought of closing the chapter
Of harvesting the touch grains
That costed me so much
Yet fueled my enthusiasm.
Thank you winter
For refreshing my views
And my perspective.
