Globe and the binoculars, roses in bloom and a few butterflies, old fashion bicycle and a red double-decker bus, one clock and me. Me in my dream.

Throughout the day, coded messages pop up on the mobile phone. Numbers instead of letters – 1111:77, 1331, 1333, 1414, 1441, 1717, 2323. A call from abroad: +331. In a wrong time. On the wrong place.

Why none speaks any more? Where does this silence come from? Who erased the words? Who hide the lust? I don’t dare to ask about love…

What do they try to say? I can’t understand. I won’t even try.

There is something in the refusal, incomplete.
C’mon, leave me, in every departure I learn about myself.
Or come back to me, but come closer and stronger.
Don’t try to invoke storms and lightening, it’s all in vain.
Rain and the sun draw the rainbow in the sky, don’t you know?
Celebrating your existence, my verses give you immortality.


Again, I watch myself somewhere far away, and I really don’t know how I get there every time.
Some inexplicable power crawls under my skin and don’t leave me in peace, causing the shiver and sweet pressure in the eyes.
I keep telling myself that a voice I hear inside while I read all those unwritten words was never meant for me.
I tell myself that it’s all part of my fancies and some unfulfilled dreams.
Yet, again, everything seems so real and my relentless thoughts can’t stop finding a justification for everything that has never happened.
The paths that I follow start to intertwine and the landscapes that I see through the window remind me more and more of the photos from my imagination.
I have a feeling that the pieces of this puzzle start to fit into the frame.

More knowledge I get – more knowledge I need.

if I ever find a way
will I ever come back home
if I ever find a way

Linked to Carpe Diem #1178 Theme Week Hafiz (4) knowledge


Forget! On your sparks I don’t answer by a wind. Do not hope that I will help you burn all the dried dreams. I don’t knit branches nor blow the fallen leaves from the asphalt.
I am the spring, the one who awakes all sleeping buds and restless butterflies. I’m the March morning that cheerfully greets you through your unwashed windows.

morning breeze
dove on a windowsill
having a breakfast

Linked to Carpe Diem #1177 Theme Week Hafiz (3) morning breeze

22003 – 1

‘Hope, but do not expect, because every expectation could bring you a disappointment’, they say. So, I train myself not to think too much. Over-thinking is not my true friend. We used to hang out together a lot but all we were good in was a painting walls in black.

‘Want, but do not need’, they say. That’s why I teach myself to find a peace in every single moment that was given to me. Sometimes it works and sometimes not, but I’m getting better and better.

But… you know… I can’t give up on one little thought in my mind. I hide it from the others and let it out sometimes, when the night falls and everyone is asleep. I let it wake up all butterflies and allow them to fly all over the greenery around my heart. I let it wrap around my body, gently, like the wings of the Angel that I call upon… sometimes…

above the clouds
higher and higher
I let you go
so you could find
your way to me

Linked to Carpe Diem #1176 Theme Week Hafiz (2) lover


After a quarrel that occurred separately in the two heads, without saying a word, silence took over. Everyone goes on with his own truth. Would the words change anything? I don’t think so. Each of them would claim that he was right and everyone would defend his own reality. Loud voices and the hard words never solve anything. After all, we all believe in our own truths.

soothing silence
just me and a rhythm
of my breath

Linked to Carpe Diem #1174 silence


I went to that concert just because I’m a mum. Although I usually think that my inner child is still teenager, I often find myself encapsulated, sulky and with symptoms of hard adulthood. Very fast a dissatisfaction follows with the questions where I have started, where I have finished and whether is there a way forward. And then, suddenly, the old Me just burst out. Like a butterfly, just like that, and stay here a day or two. Suddenly everything looks like a spring. Music in my head, music in my heart, just music. Music of my youth or music of her youth… it’s not really important.

fountain of youth – chirping sparrows share the joy

Linked to Carpe Diem #1170 fountain