I walked barefoot through the woods for you.
Your creamy scent of the Viennese summer
Dreams of pastry shops.
No, these were the woods of the West.
The big woods.
The vast ones.
The ones acquainted with receding clouds
across the mountainous sprawl.
I walked and walked, continued,
with cool soil, pine needles and moss
underneath my barefoot steps.
I was earthen again, like animal,
but somehow still a man.
A quiet, nonverbal human.
Something timeless, something ancient.
Chills ran down my spine.
So I listened and had eyes for you.
Your favorite birds came, the delicate finches.
I thought they were your thoughts.
They fleeted with the sunlight and looked forever
for some seedlings.
All I saw were blue afternoons beyond the trees
and the echoing cavern of midnight
which left me wondering
and searching for a cabin where a candle might
From its interior this forest was always like
the ship of a giant mariner turned upside down.
A laughter of stuff left on Mars.
Then, you ran across the busy city street,
all this vanished in a moment,
you were rushing on your way to a meeting.
The forest froze inside my mind,
and so these days go on forever.