Refill these hands
That worked hard and bled today
To add beauty and respect
To old clothes.
Hands not smooth and not shy
That travel quick through the stitches
And join the borders of a hot Sunday.
Give them water, a shake, and a rest
In your lap
Until fresh again.
I pushed myself
And the sofa is far away.
The green around gives a new pace
To my breathing and expectations
For this life
That’s never enough.
Lose control, embrace your music,
Restart fresh each time.
Jingle jingle in my head
That ‘ you should’ I push away
With mails and documents
That only drain.
Holidays are often theoretical
And the duties hang on my arm.
More practice is needed.
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
My story is apparent
On the skin of my willing hands
And on the edges of my smiling mouth.
I have written thousands of sentences,
Yet none is enough
I don’t remember the mornings
With the sun rising and the coffee brewing.
I start with thoughts of future
And a path of pitfalls
To elegantly avoid
And dress accordingly.
The answer to your shaking
Sits patiently hidden
at the bottom of those drawers
Or in the farther of the thoughts.
You have attended all tasks in sight for today
But cannot sit still and breathe.
Running in the wheel and digging
The missing piece emerges
With what has to be done
To feel worthy and complete for today.
I caress my petals in the sun
And embrace the astonishing landscape
Of water and mountains
Dotted with white fluffy sheep
With short memory.
I turn and stare absorbing the energy
And keep it within.
I am grounded by the drops
Of this rain with no reason
It is regular, yet unexpected and comfortable
Like a familiar face
that left long time ago
And is now back to wake you up.
I live differently,
Comfortable and unique
In my spacious 1% of opinions,
Future wishes, and behaviour.
No stream against, just a beautiful panorama
I contemplate sitting
With you, boss.
Hours have been spent
On research projects with no taste
And the days passed like a single breath.
You don’t know how
But midsummer is here
And you are not prepared.
Time to take those emergency holidays.
Few hours can feel
Like a whole expedition
And I now, tired, vanish
blending in the night.
My head wonders
Happy like a child
At the end of the day.
In a busy life of words and actions
The difficulty is observing in silence and discovering
What is recurrent.
Randomly bumping the elbows to corners and pains,
We leave a trail that tells our story
And passes often through points of significance.
Few points with value
Are like benches where to feel at home
And safely alone.
Silence as a refuge
With no screaming and no challenges
Is a treasure.
Your breath is all you need
And its calming raising and lowering
Will take you by hand through the storm.
Trust it and act.
Remember to breath
When there is nothing you can control
And have to keep your hands open.
You will be able to grab
Only what fits in your fist
From enduring spring flowers to chaotic fettuccine
And life will be in proportion
Pointy and curious
The rain pokes my face
On a Monday of busy with procrastinating
It keeps me awake
and anchored to the present,
The only certain thing I have.
Fantastic is the rain
quiet and constant pacing the moments.
Rain of renewal and rain of absence
In the moment when the routine
stops with you
And the drops are there to keep you present.
Soundtrack of the office
Are charts and silence
Until the brewing is initiated.
No comments are needed
to gather the people around
The Little kettle on the corner table.
Staring and leaning
We form a circle around the boiling water
And our faces glow in the moment of peace.
Smoke your cigarette Very slow
And turn into smoke the dark side of this day.
Puff puff those words of arrogance
And the exclamations of envy
Away from your ears.
Cigarettes and coffees save the world
The safety of the blanket
Reassures me in the day
Of difficult decisions.
Warm and silent
It leaves space to my decisions
And always agrees.
It also pushes me away
With its uncomfortable heart
When the time has come
To turn decisions into action.
The wind rests and the leave sets in
In the middle of the crowd.
The unthinkable takes place
And the chaos surrenders
Tho the joy and amusement
A dinner cash offer.
Explore the corridor
With a peaceful mind
Open to encounters and discoveries.
Pace your time
Rejecting the hurry the system imposes
Creates room for a new stream of adrenalinic challenges.
Under the pillow,
Above the shelves
The recipe for personal time is missing.
How to find that special moment?
How to make it last?
Breathe and think about the sun,
Nothing is in between
And nothing needs an immediate action
Unless you want it.
Each second a treasure
On Sunday evening
When the outside goes dark
And the sofa is what counts.
No space for worries
No space for proteins
No space for experiments
In the present.
While daydreaming of the perfect experiment
I release the fear of missing out
And of wasting time
Of no value.
Warm hands with experience
Move and drift
And my skin forgets
And my mind takes off
To the place where it should always be
At the right distance
From tears and cramps.