The duty and the honour
Of working and walking
While all i see
Is time going by
With no flavour.
Patiently i shout and consider
Possibilities and present chances
Inventing a new setting
For me, for us,
Where time is only in the background
And not so abundant.
The night has come
And i am lost in the analysis
Of this unsettling working day
With a surprising sun.
The positive balance lasts few seconds
And turns to red
While i am not convinced
And keep examining the past hours.
The night is long
And these thoughts useless.
Love is green
And grows unattended
Between your pinky toes.
Soft and flexible
You do not notice it
Still enjoy its silent support.
Years have passed
Studies have been completed,
Or only new?
Sitting and staring at the landscape
I don’t value these minutes
That can hand out joyful ideas
And first steps
For a new direction.
The train accelerates,
I slow down
Sunny day and rainless office
Cannot stop my sleepiness.
Private and soft
It draws me to the land
of pink blankets and emerald fields.
I lull in this parallel reality
While the others rush.
On the silent train,
I space-travel and time-travel
With no effort.
The welcoming feeling of home
is left behind in a step
And ne realities kick in
Unlimited.
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 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
Of home.
The coin has flipped
And my mood with it.
A simple bet turns into an exercise
Of patience and self-awareness.
I cook, I clean,
I give my sweaty time away
And collect you.
I am grounded by the drops
Of this rain with no reason
And purpose.
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 smiling enter the tunnel
of fantastic travels
And uninhibited thoughts
While the wet really condenses around me.
The minutes dilate
And the day got a its golden star
Even today.
I count the days
And the minutes seem not passing
To the first day of holiday.
I convince myself that each day is Friday
Yet the story is not finished
And another episode comes with the sun.
I sip slowlsy this day
made of too much talking
and too little fresh air.
I let no minute pass under my eyes
while the night rises
with its promise of companion and delight.
I evade the white sheets
And the pressing characters
That ask for more writing.
No daydreaming is allowed at work
My hands are enthusiastic
And my heart jumps
When the free minutes combine
And the time for poetry comes.
I run, I sweat, I take off
For the holiday of the day.
My thoughts travel like envelopes
From my mind through my arms
To the tips of fingers.
I read them out loud,
As only felt words can be,
And they cross the dimension of time
And travel into space
From this grey chair of willingness.
As I grow older,
Time seems to accelerate
And Push me aside from the competition.
Valuable minutes are spent
And I do not notice
But I miss them
When alone in bed
I am hurt by what could not be done
today.
Repeat and renew
Is a motto for work and for life.
Myself, my interests, my failures
Are resurfacing over and over again
In the cyclical time.
I run naked to make this cycle
Consistent with who I am,
Yet new and innovated
To move ahead.
I opened today the door
To trust and uncertainty
To give a chance to a future
I cannot imagine.
In every lab,
Peers and rivals
Put their word in the closing sentence
And hold shaky hands
in times of indetermination.
The importance of events
Is measured in the time
They demand from us.
Taking the time
Is standing still
And yet it is hard.
Allowing ourselves experiences is a luxury
And a lesson to learn
We all owe to our selves
Running everyday
In fields of discomfort.
The cycles of life
Repeat and renew
Leaving a scar and a nod.
A cycle for a new job,
A cycle for the true love,
A cycle to acquire confidence
And enjoy it for a while.
Each time you are thrown
Into the stage of new circus
And wonder when the next cycle will start.
