he woke early at 5 am

what was it all about?

overnight snow affecting

his dreams?

his muse sending messages?

whatever.

he looked at his mail

did not wish to sneak back

into bed again.

so – he admired her latest

creations

all about distance –

never meeting planets

on different orbits

passing exploratory missions

avoiding collision at times.

he liked her paintings

scissor cuts

drawings

precious web of emotions

depicted

falling like snowflakes

from ice-blue skies.

as he paused he thought

about love and eros

pain and anguish

sleepless nights

drinking hemp-tea

cooling down his innermost

emotional world

flaring up at times

like fermented drink’s foam

overflowing one’s cup.

the cup of wishes that hadn’t

passed his lips yet.

waking.gnikaw

zoltanzelan

zjg-poetry’20.