The waves of our journey started moving
Here we are on my paper boat
I extended my sails flying in the high sky
Talking to the details of the breeze and the blows of wind
And from time to time I was rowing the foam of the sea
Throwing it to the tops of the successive waves
Which were carrying it to far shores
Like promising letters
Like scattered memories
While hope is still reflecting from the old pages of the sea
My journey goes on
Every minute we get older
And I am counting the minutes to reach my shore
4 comments:
Nice.... You know ... you need to write us something about "love" that flaming passion of wanting to burn with the other person... the urge to unit and be one cloud togther...
M
I like it.. Reminded me of a certain short story..What exactly is the shore for you?
Luma
thank you Luma,
actually the shore is what you are looking for in life, and the borders of the soul which never gets full.
i hope you will reach your shore someday soon :)
Regards,
this sea of writing, the ink waters, the word and marks waves, as a frequent concept in your texts really thrill me. Navigate in them safely...
Post a Comment