TEN YEARS AFTER

Like the uncountable cool lanterns the rain carries within itself all turned around nourishing the warmth of time I did arrive, and indeed I am still here, but the landscape I remember now has left my face behind it all forgotten in its profound perception of itself  – me, that is, the man who lightened in the rain these very same moments now sorting themselves out between themselves. The world is sight and lense where all mirror is and happened.

And the water is a child learning to forget. And the air is an age without teeth. But the wish of the rain is to sow and get rid of all memory very much in the manner the sand of an hourglass will fall to dawn again to hide its one darkness, where our green fields still remain forever and ever waiting to be cleared.