WORD.
The same moon I saw on a white, freezing night.
Emotions running down my cheeks,
Our sighs intertwining.
It seemed there was no gap between us, yet
A faint, thin membrane existed.
Deep within, a seed germinates,
Becomes a voice, seeking to cross boundaries.
Floating in a different space,
It was both certain and uncertain.
The voices yearn to resonate,
But the ambiguous distance between heavens
Complicates everything.
Even if we spoke for hours, forgetting time,
There was no way to know
If we had touched the same thing.
Yet, a certain emotion, like a gust of wind,
Swiftly courses through the body, silencing voices,
And touches the heart directly, with texture.
For example, in a landscape reflected on paper,
In the melody of sound and poetry, in the dream of colors and images,
Or, in intertwined fingertips.
Words released from the branches of the heart,
Carried by a wind flowing from a very deep place,
Flutter down into the palm of my hand.
With a tangible sensation and feelings.
Just as it has always been,
It will continue to be so, unchanged, in the future.
To record unspoken thoughts.