And On Some Other Days

On some days,

I wish I could be a seed carried away with the wind,
or a drop diluted into the swirling depths of the sea ...

I wish I could be a flock of laughter disappearing at every turn of an endless labyrinth,
into the secrets of a secret garden,
or that I could be washed away by the rain...

I think: if only I was a dot erased amongst the boundlessness of the starlight,
a lost thought slipping between neurone connexions and into the infinite,
into the atomic cracks, the impossible of the conscience,
into the beautiful quietness of silence...

a sound that, to my ears aflame,
always seems to scream your name...

And on some other days,

I allow myself to entertain the thought
that I really wish it wouldn't.