smoke

what does this

immersion in your world

give me, except for your losses

and the things that couldn't leave you

I could not, cannot
make you change your mind
but I'm still waiting for you
to find the road that leads here

Folk Tales

all the old stories
my ancestors sang in the light
and etched on the stone rock by that tree
have waited to come true, by the edge of
this day
and shall continue to sing
of freedom and love
haunting my dreams with the smell
of jasmine

by the fading light

the day got entangled in

the colours of green and red, which

swirled and lost themselves

in the cleft, the space, the line

that runs between rocks and mountains

dividing day by night, and so we follow

it out to the open sea,

where all lines run out