A time for freshness / The freshness of time

I like

the freshness of mornings

when you enter the living room and

the windows are open

a light breeze breathing inside

while you sit and live

reading the news or talking with about

road trips to the north of the country

you know how I heart the north of the country

and you’re told it’s going to be fresh out there

like really fresh

(in the north of the country)

almost cold

and you think

that the difference between fresh and cold

is one of existential degree

based on a criteria of love and joy

(in the country)

it was also fresh next to the river

I saw a fisherman taking a fish out of the water

dozens of pedal bikes

and the brother of an old friend covered in sweat

while I ran to feel

some sort of energy before going on

a short road trip of my own

(in the north)

I remembered during the week

the freshness of the evening falling

in the Koyasan cemetery in Japan

there was no snow nor cherry tree leaves

only the air and the dim lights of the stone path

speaking of lights

I saw this graffiti next to the street lamp in front of my house

it said glow

and when I was coming back home from running I saw

in the wall next to the street lamp before my house

the word glow

same style

and I thought

we got an artist in the neighbourhood

I like people

that wish to make an oeuvre

out of their own light

(in the north of the country

I hope you feel and enjoy

this time of freshness

the natural beauty of the greens

so good and free and relaxed

so disarmingly

beautiful)