Philosophy

Who weaves wool scarf

against the cold autumn ?

Who's hot

my heart to appreciate.

Sometimes, when I

It's cold ,

fear of coverage

hurls my shoulders.

A million dreams,

wandering in the wind

the air flow are exporting.

Without encountering ever

actual desire.

In my mind swaying

the mother of the child in the water,

restlessly

space waves

the beginning of the world ocean.

philosophy sway

dormant soul,

rotating it,

as the earth

rotates around its axis.

I, as well as the universe,

both equally mysterious.

We do not know where we came from,

and where are we going?