23 january 2020, amsterdam
in the grey sky-sea
a thunder spear
flashes, splitting
the sky in pieces
the clouds
on the horizon
stitch the sky
to the earth
in the dark saturated
forest, among tall trees
a bright birch
stands its ground
the birch bright
without intention
sparkles day and night
draws no attention
the birch bright
floats its own way
without obstructing
the path of other trees
the birch bright
doesn’t sway with
every wind
like other trees
the birch bright
sweeps the grief
from the sky while
other trees sleep
it goes with the flow
will not oppose
nor conform
to the rules of others
the birch bright
has no particular
concept, for it is
rooted in the sky
i still remember
the breath of it
waking me up
by the yawning dawn
in the dark sky-sea
a thunder spear
strikes the saturated
dark forest in a flash
i smell a familiar smoke
in the meadow of night
a breath a broken light