One moment you think
the world is in your hands,
and you want to grab it
in your fist
never to let go!
Then at other moment
you realise
She is a free bird
not to be controlled
not to be caught.
Just to be followed
and find happiness
under her free wings.
But you still want her
You still love her.
You want to be the one
To find that happiness
Under her wings.
To take a shelter under them.
You want to be the one,
To encourage and to support her,
To caress her splendid body,
And her omniscient soul
made of strong imagination
and firm decisions.
Oh! how, how you want
to contemplate
her every flight
that makes you feel
like she’s going away
going forever.
Yet you feel
like a tree,
who waits
until her next arrival,
and the next after that
Patiently.
Spending time
remembering,
her soothing voice
which has ripples
like the water has
when thrown a pebble,
and those songs
about love,
about life,
that music,
that rhythm.
That silence in her voice
beautiful than the starry night.
Like the branches
of a tree
that dance with the wind,
Your heart dances
on her voice-tone
even if its
just on your phone.
How astonishing
how small is this world,
Packed in that
little parabolic
curve on her face.
Yet
that world
doesn’t fit
in your fist.
It simply won’t.
For it’s not to be grabbed,
It’s to be hold
Tenderly.
She doesn’t need
a controlling fist.
Or a grabbing palm.
All she needs,
is a supporting hand.
To fill more enthusiasm,
more confidence
in her free wings.
She is bird
not to be controlled
not to be caught.
Yet, somehow,
You simply won’t stop
loving her,
following her.
You want to be the one.
You want to be her one.
So simple is the fact,
yet so twirled.
Without her,
there is no other world!
brainwork 