The winter that never came into my garden, came into my life and embraced me with its snowless fields and musical emptiness. If you would have been here, you should have noticed all the emotionally disabled bodies hanging around...
watching sunsets in lonely beaches
an empty street
catching the last train home
or getting lost in a big supermarket..
..searching for some uncertainty in the eyes of a stranger, being thirsty for unpredictability and gardening their longings..
Meanwhile I am sitting somewhere on the plato in Central India and remembering the times.
Or most probably enjoying my true illusions about what a memory is. You know what I mean - sometimes you just sit there and remember all the things that never happened. You go through the memories in detail and recall.. all the things that never happened. All the people you never been together with. Or maybe never even met.
All the places you've never been.
All the sounds you have never heard.
And you remember all of it so clearly.
Well, the spring is here.. Flowers bloom and a heart of every human being is lifted up to heaven. Straight to heaven..
You can touch the azure of your wilderness. You can actually feel it.
With all your cells and sensations.
Spring is light.
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