Poems

So, am I a czech boy, playing in the fields of Arnoltice?

Or am I a russian poet, writing about the beauty of the unknown?

Or the german young man, stumbling through urban life?

Or am I the norwegian lakes and the silence of the trees?

Or the northamerican traveller in the land of the indian heritage?

Or am I the mexican painter embraced by the warm caribbean sea?

Do I have to be someone?

Or am I no one on a wild ride through the Milky Way on mothership earth?

I dream I am a river.

The stars above me, the stars within me.

Endless wilderness sings in dark water.

Old trees whisper in the wind to the sound of splashing waves,

friendly guiding me to the shores of no return.

I breathe the sound of the sea

I breathe the lonely moon

I breathe the silence

together we breathe

me, the night, the crickets,

in and out

full and empty

everything and nothing