There seems to be a straight road
in your direction
where you have a good grip on 

as long as you don’t know 
its reality

I will be driven again
towards a point in the future
that I don’t know and have been

I see the time in between passing by 
and I get out at the end of the ride
setting foot in a new beginning
with the same end

life can only be seen from one point
from in between the past you see
and the future you expect

Fear of death often seems
to be
veiled in security 

fear of loss
of time 
of the other

fear of nothing 
at the end

I took out the parts that hold me
and realize it was not much

I've been near the top of that mountain
and now I have to look at it every day 
because I am staying here

Blown snow stuck against the door's window

I opened it to feel

but decided

to stay in



because I can

Through the snow I continue where the path ends

the path that took me to that which is unexpected

thinking we know where we are going understand

what am I doing here what am I doing in the snow

I can give you reason or two maybe three or more

so what is true of all of this or what will value have

the cold snow on the ground I fall into is full of this

unthinkable thoughts a never-conceivable realities

without reason it wants to give anything the truth

It happens spontaneously in passing just like that

don't think too much think like a child every day

without a past dare to fall into the cold snow

do not be afraid of the wet or the blame

wet cloth can dry the days disappear

disappearing into the horizons

the one that is behind you

full of old imaginations

heavy as a burden

denied bitterness

you will forget

what it was 

as a child

to be to

fall in

snow

Wet

am 

I



that

is like

to become

a child

play