Dark-Light

There is the crow, there is the nightingale too. There is darkness, there is brightness too. There is drought, there is the green garden of flowers too. In the midst of the night’s darkness, on the petal of a marigold — with the fine pen of a thorn — I write my name beside your name. I entrust to the clear water of the spring the boat I made myself, flowing toward the sunrise, hidden in it: the newborn of love...