if the earth was a willow and you were one too -would earth be weeping so gentle and true? if i was the garden whereas you could grow -would you hand me your brAnches and grant me your love? in between the lines of your story-flowing through the pages of a book so well prepared the words leave more than ashes from your pencil when it speaks of tiny stories that happened through these years I swear that your present reality-disillusioned obscurity? -will gently wipe away the tears of wasted seeds how Can we go through this -with wounded wing before we learned how to fly how can i control desires -when desires burns on a chilly autumn Night? i will try and make you imagine; the aura where they stand is filled with little secrets -as written in the sand Naked as a child at birth a question in disguise an oasis in a lonely desert where lonely unknown lands lie from here and into infinity -humble and timeless philosophy-you gently wept away the tears of wasted seeds all the days that have left me and the species i have seen ahead days will follow -it was only a dream though my garden is growing under skies out of blue, and it changes Each season both in colours and in truth you should know that a willow -a weeping bed's pillow- until all days are through the rain that fall on your branches, Just yearning for a source to feed it's primal need can maKe your beauty blossom from within with flowers blowing in the wind-and in seasons to follow....