Passion in yellow
the dream
the emphasis on retracing
steps never made
words never said
thoughts never written
on the top of the hill
the farm of fate
I saw beyond the white canvas
beyond the milky paper
through eyes
that do not belong to me
a noise that sounds like
heavenly music
the smell of the earth
in the spring awakening
in the explosion
of this friendly nature
from far away the first swallows
are finally returning
meditation place
where thoughts
become enormous waterfalls
of madness
or genius
