Words

 

Stretching towards the mountains. There, it’s good to have a rest. Mysterious world. How can I stay balanced on the concrete?

Yes, maybe that’s all it is… immerse in the silence of babbling brooks. Bite grass… turn into a tree. What are you doing here?

The trees give way. Attentive, they are; their windless silence sympathetic.

Over the images’ boundless richness, the realm of colors and shapes… the forest is silent.

It’s time to leave; I leave you, beautiful place. Can I see you again?

Each step is an image that wobbles as if the earth trembles, and one takes root there.