Revival
I pass my fingers through the heaps of wheat
the seeds pierce my feet and my blood
the earth wants to talk to me
the seeds push their pulsations
in my hands, in my thoughts
prediction was risen from history
you embrace me from all the angles
I assist at my own revival?!
Everything is yellow, hospitable and whirled
rooted wells stop
the nooks of the tractors
and spread the air with the flavor of the earth
birds interweave red trills
colts of the earth, hungry of dreaming, shudder.
Fly, masters of Chronos
in your hands the sun smiles
you, those who watch prankish
the flowers on the curb of pavement
the piles with juice and cherries
stamped with invisible ink
waiting for the moment of identification
with the dream from the parents’ world.