... And if sometimes unknowingly hurt
who loves us and hurt,
unwittingly, who is dear to us, even if
and trying to please, and it hurt
cantaloralmos gentle lullabies, and
bother, when so many Attempts are vain,
maybe there is just silence, its hollow sound, and
waiting time, a space, a crack,
to generate new melodies and styles, that arise
new wings and petals, and light, and poetry!
Between dreams and sounds and silences, life pulsates,
love to do and undo, and reinvents itself means ...
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