forest for the madman


treesI am of flowers

of bird’s wing

the wind lives in me

when unfolded

I catch the wind

drops of green rain

awaken me with the spring

and I rub my eyes

of feathers and of flesh

of earth’s thick fiber

I raise my head with my open eyes

I clench in my hand

a green shred of sky

I hold in my strong teeth

a small bough

 I am of smiles – of pain

that carves a triangle

above my forehead

of light and of the moon

of love straight as a tree is straight

of earth that blooms golden in my hand

H. Poświatowska

.

fot. A. Bober  

( i nie było photoshopa :)