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Loud Rain

The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
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The gathering

 The fern;

Spines with little fingers,

Dribbled over by glistening tears of the morning.

The wind blows,

Slightly raising a weary leaf,

Cooling it.

The tears roll down like globes of glass.

The tears roll down and the Weight is lifted.

The leaves now rise

To look for the wind.

But they can’t see him.

The leaves now rise

To redden their chests with the sun's mighty light;

Their guardian,

Their king.

The leaves now rise

And rustle in the wind;

A collective laughter.

The fern;

Spines with little fingers;

Using those fingers to play an anthem

On the melodica of the wind...




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