A LETTER TO LIFE

My writings are in a wet paper

My morning starts on a floating wave

My memory in a missing time

Everything uncertain and unclear

All the de-petaled flowers of yesterday

Yet I am forced to live into which I am betrayed

Following a journey for a war of life.

 Being a conqueror

When I return

YOU (life) are excited for another death.

Futile attempt, futile ego.

I deceive myself sincerely knowing much about YOU

But manage carefully not to know YOU

YOU cling

To the murderous innocency of the child’s smile

To the unbearable softness of the winter morning sun

To the softest violence of the mother’s love

To the invisible darkness of the no-moon night

To the sharp look of the eye

To the vapors of a warm kiss on the fore head

Still much remain unsaid and untouched

Perhaps any say about YOU is unsay able

And all unsayables are the only sayings of you

Perhaps you are not available when I am there

But available when I am not there

YOURS

The Seeker.