Anahita
Anahita
(26 feb 2015,Luxembourg)
Another sea, inside her…
moves… rebels… concedes…
and finds calmness everyday
Much bigger, much more uncontrollable
the wavy thoughts,
splashing her feelings , emotions, dreams…
Her self-awareness, matches the flight of the seagulls
sitting on the wind, flying over the world
and the wind smells of gone by moments (they always do!)
(26 feb 2015,Luxembourg)
Another sea, inside her…
moves… rebels… concedes…
and finds calmness everyday
Much bigger, much more uncontrollable
the wavy thoughts,
splashing her feelings , emotions, dreams…
Her self-awareness, matches the flight of the seagulls
sitting on the wind, flying over the world
and the wind smells of gone by moments (they always do!)
Outside…. somewhere far,
a small boat sails at a distance
the color of the setting sun,
turns into somewhat enjoyable sadness
and the Sea smiles back at her of letting it go (like a mother’s understanding smile)
a small boat sails at a distance
the color of the setting sun,
turns into somewhat enjoyable sadness
and the Sea smiles back at her of letting it go (like a mother’s understanding smile)
Another moment passes by slowly with a humid breeze
distracted…
she finds herself, again…
wrapped in a sweat soaked skin
sitting on the sand,
smelling the winds
listening to the waves
splashing her feelings , emotions, dreams…
She feels alive, among many friends,
yet alone in her own way….
Lazily she collects her wings,
and with one last smile for her own consumption
flies back to a world (that does-not really exist)….Thousands of miles away,
sailing in those seas
watching the same setting sun
A man thinks about her, with sombre joy…..S.
distracted…
she finds herself, again…
wrapped in a sweat soaked skin
sitting on the sand,
smelling the winds
listening to the waves
splashing her feelings , emotions, dreams…
She feels alive, among many friends,
yet alone in her own way….
Lazily she collects her wings,
and with one last smile for her own consumption
flies back to a world (that does-not really exist)….Thousands of miles away,
sailing in those seas
watching the same setting sun
A man thinks about her, with sombre joy…..S.
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Miranda 1916 by John william waterhouse |
