Outside my home

Outside my home

 

So different is the world outside my home

so different, the life beyond its limits

(letters and sounds, pictures that live in different colors)

so different, the world beyond the space of language!

 

There is a certain rhythm, though

that flows within, no matter what

a rhythm of the soul

that speaks a different language

(not from the earth,

nor from the mind)

a language of music,

a certain motion of the waves

calling the words out of caves

(the mind is hiding them).

 

A different view, a different state

a different way of being

(while isolated from the world)

into the poetry of seeing.

Daniela Marin –¬†Saturday, August 05, 2017