torsdag 10. september 2015

Sometimes we cannot find words; Sometime we say too much. Sometimes we come back stronger. And then sometimes - We are just never enough...



If you want me to have a mysticism,
then fine,
I have one.
I'm a mystic,
but only with my body.
My soul is simple and doesn't think.

My mysticism is not wanting to know.
It's living and not thinking about it.

I don't know what Nature is:
I sing it.
I live on top of a hill
in a solitary,
whitewashed house,
And that is my definition...

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