New beginnings
Is it possible to start old?
What does it cost to say hello to the past, in that crazy flowing water, in the river of life where pages are turned?
However, like a brooch on my collar, you are the image of a street lamp shining freshly on the horizon, you are the work of the bells ringing in my brain.
It's a shame to say hello to you when you have a vague understanding in your name, and the despair of ending in your pronunciation.
Earth dressed in green, trees adorned with hope, birds singing the song of love. Look! The clouds are smiling lovingly, so hello to you why the past.
The sound of swords being unsheathed echoes like yesterday in the chambers of my heart.
Your desolation, running and catching my self like a hand, shakes the captivity in books that have never been read, at these stops where I am waiting now.
Why are you so persistent? You must understand that my captive self is in love with the white doves floating in the blue, the graceful weasels in the fields, those roads that stretch but wash with the pure water of freedom.
I will neither embrace you invitingly in this mess that you are a stranger to, nor do you imprison me in your dark cold rooms.
As if searching for an endangered creature, neither you find me nor will I judge you among my heaped defeats.
You are not the knight of my dancing dreams, past.
You are the tears of life that collect drop by drop in my heart.
I no longer want to breathe in your musty old streets, but among roses painted red and white daisies swaying like a bride.
Goodbye, goodbye past.