LIFE

How beautiful it is
Do not think when you see a thunderbolt:
'Life is fleeting'.
Silence:
the cicadas listen
the song of the rocks
Brave that
whose life is a continuous
lightning
Twilight:
the herbs seem to follow
the herds they collect
And the lines intersect
in the fine loom of fate.
Your hands on mine.
Nap. On the line
I put the bait out of a dream.
I fish a little star