Feather fell down in a dusky lighted room,
with enough sound to be noticed,
but not enough to draw attention.
The same manner in which I’ve been
opening and closing doors.
Dreams we make up as kids,
'cause later we forget how to dream.
Even if they are taken away from us,
it is important to create them.
Otherwise today has no more tomorrow.
All that we know, we can capture in a glimpse.
Our expectations are greater,
but they blindfold us.
The flowers on the window
and candles at the door.
A ballet dancer as a dandelion puff,
bending the arms as if to speak;
in a storm that comes and goes
as if with the waves.
Standing on a floating feather,
with an angel weeping at the shoulder.
We haven't been running,
yet we have always been racing,
since the day we were born.
We shed our skins and call it dust.
Fear finds the smallest of cracks
and it permeates through.
Growing bigger in an anxious mind.
There is still place to leave a trace.
Curiosity takes you a step further
and awards you with undiscovered lands.
Remember the feeling when your heart
just can’t take it anymore?
Chasing eternity through the golden summer fields;
there is quite enough light to hope,
for two lovers lost at war.