When I got lost
In your dream,
You reported the silence, the search in the plains,
the white all over,
The long white lines in the horizon,
Not even a pile of ice
Around, I laughed,
Juggling with your entire anguish.
Now I see
The feeling of the missed
Not even being introduced to it,
Surrounded by the same apocalyptic illusion
That all is well,
Where the snow is not even noticed
Just the orange color of the desert.
Celebrate the life,
Dear Soul
Before the first fresh breath you have ever taken.
Celebrate the ones who are
Concerned, sharing the worries,
Of the “wherever you are”.
Driving on the wrong direction,
Following the other side,
The other lane,
The other role,
The other “not even knowing”.
Rejoice the ‘no lights’,
No shells,
No reservations,
To where life drives you
And becomes to be.
By Lilian Schreiner
