Der Stein sah den Schmetterling
War sehr erfreut über ihn
Wie der die Lüfte bewegt
Dachte nicht eine Minute
Würde er landen auf ihm
Wäre genau so erfreut
Dem Stein fiel das Atmen ein
Wieder das Schütteln der Glieder
Wärme und Licht
Der Stein ließ das Steinsein los
Wusste es wieder
Was seine Bestimmung war
Dass eine Blüte sich in ihm verbarg
Wiedererweckt
Würde sie lieben
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You see, here you'll find poems of opportunity and seasons. They're mine, though, so I have to protect them.
Welcome! If you are willing to follow the iconian path, you should know that it is always you we are talking to, even if it is not. And that everything is true, even if it is not. We all are eternally united in the last space possible where even the impossible is real. We ought to believe the foretold: If we'll meet tomorrow, next year, or never, it doesn't matter, it's only time! And everything, even time is fiction.
By the way, typos and other mistakes - we know there are many. If you can be bothered, please let us know. Thank you! And for any legal issues, please contact us before we have to tell you that we're skinned. But you can also write, of course, if you like what you read. Please, write to the webmaster.
