Illusions
The dormouse is starring back. He fears me And the broom that hit the walls angry. I wonder about freedom And determinism... Was it self-determinism One new age theory that praised the wholeness? My feet sink in the wet grass - Sand and shells scrubbed them, Been dancing in waves... Some humans are walkers Of far distant lands, Some thrive in their circle, Some dream in their caves. My forest is singing. Can be away long, Whenever I listen It's all a new song. How big the scenery To fill one's dreams? Nitted by walking, Bordered by screams, Freedom to be Attained in its whole It's same an illusion As one cries his role. The wind paints with fractals Of branches and light, I rest in experience, It rests in my sight.