Burst of gold, the showering sun hanging overhead. You do not feel the heat, only pure, unadulterated joy. Evenings grow long and the days, more languid. You relinquish in all that this world has to offer, you realise that grasping at straws will not do, will not do. You realise that in this short-lived life there is much to be done, and despair will not do.
Yet you wake every living day,
out of this dreary state; like the mighty amaltas in the summer sun
I watch the soft unfurling of the fisted flowers tiny buds, competing to reach the finish line the slight trembling of the trees swaying to the Northern winds and the gathering of the crows in the quiet, misted mornings. There isn’t much to say except watch with complete bewilderment how the world as you know transforms in the passing of the days in the shadow of the night and in just a blink of an eye