sensation

I open my eyes. I close my eyes. Again I open my eyes. Now I know that, after many hours of sleep, I am simply awake. But no matter how wide I open or how much I close, I am not seeing anything. My mind tells me that the time gone is far better. At least through the dark darkness of my sleep, I pass those unseen unreal yet beautiful landscapes. Now I realize that, after playing with my friend, even the bright burning chubby one is still smiling deep in memories of yesterday.

I slowly went and sat out on the deck. From far away I smell the waking of that plump little one. Though my sight is low and almost asleep, I smell the dawn as freshly as how I smell the half eaten mangoes left by the bats. Now I smell the mist of the morning fog and slowly yet deeply I breathe. Feeling cold inside myself I gently hiss to that yawning round one to wake up and let me smell my skin.

I look once again and now I hear the song of the bamboo so pale and colourless in early dawn. They play softly in wild like Beethoven’s “Quasi una Fantasia”. Only the leaves can play so gently with the softness of their flesh. This music made my eyes close again for a while only to feel the liquid sound to pour inside of me.

I wake again in a silent surprise to quench my thirst from the falling little drops. It tasted like “Gnossienne in Painted Veil”.

I felt a sensation of an unseen touch. With the round one half awake I now see the trees dancing at that very moment. From where does this feeling of touch come from, I wonder. Along she comes happily to ballet with the trees then hugs me gently and tip toes through the bamboo. I never see the wind with wings that flies over me to humour the beauty of a moment so still.