We are

We are light threads

Stretched between sky and earth

Like a giant lyra

Vibrating under cosmic fingers.

We are boxes with precious jewels

Carefully kept by artist lapidarist.

We are tubes of million colors

Entwined, never blended.

We are white silk veils’ dance

Frenetic or mild, hypnotic ballet.

We are tiny bottles of spring trees’ perfume,

Of mushroom essence, and morning daffodils.

We are cups of fresh grape juice,

Painfully sweet.

We are Santa’s big sac

Full of useless funny things

Dipped in pine balm.

We are windows to unseen light

Of other realm, enchanted.

We are whispers of love

Wrapped in a kiss.

We are bittersweet tears

Scattered in air by winds.

We are lost ego’s cry

Freezing, famished for light

In ceaseless winter night.

We are princes and ogres,

Witches and sages,

Entrapped actors

In a mad story,

The same one, since the beginning.

We are trees and mountains,

Rivers and oceans

Forgotten in immortality.

©️A. Garden, Nov. 2018

Romanian version