Vanya Nikolaeva
Photo: trialsanderrors
Today is almost gone.
Tomorrow knocks on the solid door
And last minutes of the present
Meet the impatient future.
How indescribable it feels
To sit on the motley sofa
And simply listen to the cryptic
Whisper of the wind outside.
The fireplace tells summer stories
Of long forgotten dreams
And the snowflakes’ dances
Draw crystal smiles on the pane.
The book of yesterday is read,
It is not needful anymore.
The breathing worlds it has brought
Are now thin lines on the palm.
What is actually time
In the hectic puzzled life…
If not just an audible dimension
Between observation and action.
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