Like two arcs funding an unfinished bridge running over oceans and rivers,
We knead our words as
roads, we need them as knights need swords,
They are our steps in
the dance on a torn fence and hence the gap,
the opening in a wall,
the unexpected hole we filled with streams of chats.
We are novices, explorers,
sailors and commanders of a ship that sails
With uncertain directions
and unknown destination, we bet we could get
Some sense from a tense
time on the waves, from a growing flower that shows
Colours that may change
when it blossoms, who knows?
We are trees singing
our songs when a warm wind blows,
We are golden sand in
the sun, spectators of the circling dove,
Dreamers we are, or
foolish – who knows – dissolving like pearls of tears in the light of love.
