In An Enchanted Forest

The song of the slopes lulls despite constantly being reminded in the path, that you are not in her anymore. Unwound in the peace of the forest, you realize that the purple tulips are not yet awake. The fresh air celebrates your belated ritualistic appearance. The changing time is revealed in the bare trees that were once dressed for the spring. The pine trees are all faithfully green. Shining olive trees fringing the winding out invitation had put on their most attractive black beads once more. Birds must be out there in the audible, vibrant bushes while you enjoy the respite of your closed eyelids. The moment feels like past in the ambient music. Time passes by your eyes. The haunted dives into a world of dreams. The unfold knows what it misses as your steps rehearse loneliness. You draw in life in the determination of the chill that is eager to bring you to your senses. Being alone you are the witness that judges cannot do without. Reticence is her verdict. The canvas is the land where the painted return back in the begrudged.Still alive in my veins wandering the chant of the bewilderment.

In An Enchanted Forest,
15/01/2006