Dawn
A man crosses the river
drops on sleds flow and vanish
tomorrow’s season doesn’t care about existence
it marches and dreams, it doesn’t remember
its body, the flashing ecstasy
reflection of flow
crosses the emptiness of the void
the web of nebulas
the abyss of the night hides in his hair
the timeless paths beyond the Vega of Aldebaran
omen of Odysseus part of totality
marches into the arcanum of fleshless reality
the eternal illusion of light and life
will know that the flow
is nothing but only
the self-immolation of all that passed.
Manolis Aligizakis 