Cinnamon and precious gems contained in the present
Porcelain bowl on the dinner table
Perceived while drifting to sleep
You want to paint your toenails with magenta
After your escape from solitude
Where will you begin, you ask
The night does not answer, remains silent
Boredom can ignore time of deprivation
Until we arrive at a forest clearing
Not far from a village where elders
Can tell you stories of a lifetime
Where children dance and laugh
And tell you their stories, fresh moments of joy.
Before the future arrives.
edgarone2