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Picking Apple from an Oak

Picking Apple from an Oak

I sleep with the sun at night
with the moon all day

swim in the desert
walk across oceans

wordless when I should scream
weep when I should be silent

I look at the mirror from the mercury-layer
at the rainbow from behind a dusty window

give debts to the water
doubts to the wind

count time by watching the moldy bread
bake the bread in the timeless stove

dress up birds with the tablecloth
then caress the head of butterflies

build my home by apple tree wood
then pick apples from an old oak

and you keep wondering
if the universe makes sense in reverse

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Selected by Raymond HuffmanImage Soodabeh Saeidnia

Published in Open Arts Forum on .

Selected by Raymond Huffman·
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Soodabeh Saeidnia