Vague Stream
A curious hot winter
At the turn of the year
Sand from the Sahara
Has come to us while we can’t fly
Blown away, it’s now pouring from above
Weeping snow
Weeping sand
Losing notion of geography
Either of the seasons
Knowing indeed
That the river floats decidedly,
Seeing only
The abstraction of its stream
Shall we rely on unfixed things
To make our present real ?
Yet, reality overpassed my imagination,
Light and colors
Like painting strokes
And fishes lighting up the sky
Statistic waves,
Roller coaster of cases,
Park us indefinitely
On the side
Of a being built road
My body is stationary but
Everything moves around,
The invisible above all
Is motionless only in my dreams ?
Cause I do see and feel
The seconds are running
Geneva, January 2020
