intuitiveflow

Walking with his dream

The little kid

Is walking an ancient path

The rocks become brittle

And turn into sand

The little hill

Loves to feel his feet on its back

The little hill and he

Are good, loving, friends

Sometimes it rains

And memories of old friend river

Turn to memories of old friend mud

But he walks on with old friend wonder

And you can read his writing

Which he leaves behind

Written on the air

When you see

A leaf falling

Or when a bird

Flying through the sky

Is gone. 

This came when I could not sleep at 3 or 4 from the pain.

I thought that what would come would be bitter, frustrated or something of this sort. But this came, almost as it is.  I made only a few little changes. How can it be?

How can I be tortured physically and have this come through me?

What do you think?

For the time being, my body is there and my mind is here. Soon my body will start following my mind.

And where will I be then?