Mouseprints in the Sand

Blissfully unaware of everything human in nature; to cry for no reason but to feel warm tears; to have wings and dreams of heavenly wisdom; ethereal hopes and grandiose feelings; but, sometimes, loneliness.

A collection of poetry and a short story, Island of Joy, written between 2005 and 2007.

To Poetic Life

The truth?
The truth is
I believe in nothing.
Were you expecting something grand;
a bit of profound or sage wisdom?
Sorry, I have none,
only my empty consciousness
and dreams.

But I did not come here,
to wherever you are,
to write such things.
I came only to say
I enjoy this life despite,
well, basically anything adverse.

I like to stroll down by the stream
and watch the rabbits swim through the wavy grass;
a conversation with a stranger
or the oldest friend.

I savor my sleep
and even my pain;
the sweet tastes of dessert,
the smell of perfume;
a kiss,
a caress,
an afternoon nap
or a cup of tea and a bath.

There are little things too,
absurd things really,
from turkey feathers in the wind
to sunlit veins in a leaf
or mouse prints in the sand
which lighten my eyes
and renew
my faith in life.