When I get up to see myself
There's already the encroachment of a mirror.
At those times, one wonders, how the world was,
once upon a time;
it will be only trees and trees, and landscapes of it, and hills and snow-capped mountains.
I will feel the first peace and feel love from the running water of a river.
I will point at the sky and speak to the night and to the day...
and feel with the amazement, whether I fell from the skies,as I slept.
And whether anyone heard my cry,
And whether the sun is the way back, Whether it's on a search of its own.
I will believe in metaphysics
Facts will not be my thing
I will rave in prayer
And if the storm comes,
I will feel satisfied
That someone heard me.
And then I'll ask,for what reason ?
Feels like God,
but acts different...
there's deaths and distractions.
©jad
J