The wind brought the sweet scent
that was buried deep within the earth
where the rain was spreading its roots
Now a season has begun
without time, without peace
what will now arise
we will bathe in it, carrying our own murky feelings
Our role will not be for the truth
though it is lost
we will open up like the earth
what has been stored within us for years
half-finished, bare
will raise its head
We have to see
what we missed last time
the pillars, stones, open fields
mountains, waterfalls, trails
dead and some incomplete seeds,
how they are ready
the clouds are over our heads
we have long experience
of each other's
ignorance
we want to know
that's why we don't hide our heads
we meet with different faces
we deepen each other
rain is not part of our journey
it's not easy to understand
what is being formed, the roots that are being thrown down, How much the creation of our dubious role in a life of deep indiscretion matches this unsigned treaty
Thank you so much for reading. Have a great day 😊🙏 @vikbuddy
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