if the earth was a willow   and you were one too   -would earth be weeping   so gentle and true?   if i was the garden   whereas you could grow   -would you hand me your brAnches   and grant me your love?      in between the lines of your story-flowing through   the pages of a book so well prepared the   words leave more than ashes from your pencil   when it speaks of tiny stories that happened   through these years   I swear that your present reality-disillusioned   obscurity? -will gently wipe away the tears   of wasted seeds      how Can we go through this   -with wounded wing before we learned how to fly   how can i control desires   -when desires burns on a chilly autumn Night?      i will try and make you imagine;   the aura where they stand   is filled with little secrets   -as written in the sand   Naked as a child at birth   a question in disguise   an oasis in a lonely desert   where lonely unknown lands lie      from here and into infinity   -humble and timeless   philosophy-you gently wept away the tears   of wasted seeds      all the days that have left me   and the species i have seen   ahead days will follow   -it was only a dream   though my garden is growing   under skies out of blue,   and it changes Each season   both in colours and in truth   you should know that a willow   -a weeping bed's pillow-   until all days are through      the rain that fall on your branches,   Just yearning   for a source to feed it's primal need   can maKe your beauty blossom from within   with flowers blowing   in the wind-and in seasons to follow....