Wonderland

 

Rain doesn't always manage

To communicate me

Its density.

Away from its song,

Spells run behind my eyes

And I become present

In another dimension, 

Following clusters of synchronicity 

And downloading languages 

Of simbols and sounds, 

Hermeneutics 

And patterns to be recognized. 

The awkwardness of reality

Is that it's always so personal,

So intimate,

That it cannot be explained to another.

" I shall paint my heart"

Wishies the artist;

And his expression gaines admiration,

But nobody sees his heart. 

Yes, the awkwardness is the intention

To transmit the view

So one doesn't feel lonely

And reality to become common

So it doesn't seem madness

" In a world of my own",

While knowing we cannot transpire

More than shadows on the cave walls, 

So silly to try telling you the dream, 

When the magic, 

Same as all madness, 

Can only be lived

Inside. 

Because perception

Deceives us to believe 

That the view of the world 

Is shared by all, 

We seek understanding, 

 But it's not the realities 

What we need to know,

It's  each other's hearts.