An old poetry scroll...White moon
With your light you shine all night
Through the window of my room
Cold wind blows
Caresses me late this night
That you told me "Im forever yours
The poetry is unfinished, followed by a reflection...
Will the places that we promised to visit again, be there until that day we can find ourselves one more time?
Will the cold nights be our delight again?
Will the seafood and the weak candle be our less important company in that lonely bar late at night again?
Will the candle on the wooden box next to my bed be your favourite of my treasures again?
Will we ever learn to live with what we get and not with all we wanted?
Will we ever be able to freeze those dreams and take them into the daylight realm?
Will we ever find our way... in this world?
And when late in the night we wake up again together; Between darkness, silence, silver light, and the cold breeze that blows in that old third floor...
...Will we ever find out where these winds come from?
