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.