aniara

I am a man, little do I last

and the night is enormous.

But I looked up,

the stars write.

Unknowing I understand,

I too am written,

and at this very moment

someone spells me out.

Perhaps to love is to learn

to walk through this world.

To learn to be silent

like the oak and the linden of the fable.

To learn to see

Your glance scattered seeds.

It planted a tree.

I talk

because you shake its leaves.