Today
A bird flies,
a wave crashes
and again
a star shines.
You and your wealth,
in such a way as to suggest all your hopes and fears
on it placed,
caged in a conundrum in this simple life,
belonging to a race of haves,
your days, confined in a time that for you it rushes.
You and your demands,
jumbled in all of your wants,
displaced from the true home of your heart.
What do you ask for?
Can you even ask for the 60th part of a minute to come back?
Can you ask for life to repeat?
And what is the mystery of peace?
Today I might die.
Tomorrow
A bird will fly,
a wave will crash,
and not just one,
but many stars will shine.
