Later
Doves fly in the sun From the crane of the city, Leaves move along And morning is sleepy. Soul rests detached Of longings and craves Takes the front blow Of wandering space. Let's meet all the time In gifts of attention, While running through life Between the dimensions. I purr and I walk The contexts and dreams, Promoting ideals, Naive flowing streams. I split and observe Reality framed, While nothing is wrong, But hardness untamed. The trap is the routine, The constance of state, When sun always rises Same kind of late.