last night where the soul’s sorrow was a mate,
last night where she found one start,
an end of a falling tear, or perhaps a newborn of a pain..
last night where a start left a trace of rain in her cloudy eyes…calling he who knows how to dive in oceans of her hidden emotions, who invade the soul….
who could find where are the holes of a traveling ship,
who could be a captain for her trip,
. her sleep which used to escape in a waiting shape,
while waiting for little hope…
….for a healer to
killer of the souls..to knot that broken rope.
the seeker seek arts of reading soaring hearts,
an artist in listening, singing, reading others’ arts
before tasting that pleasure of a sailor’s arrival..before the arrival knocks her doors…she found him on his shores and again ready to depart…