When shadows fall where Buddha waits,
A meeting place does time create.
Where you evolved and I became
To finish the paths we had called the same.
Forgotten stones of the path
For which I have walked
And the taste of the air that blew.
Textures gone, the clouds away
With all those things I knew.
Just impressions now,
Stuck in stone making the path anew.
But the colors coming back round now,
Just in time for you.
- ▼ 2010 (26)