Illusions

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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. 



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