Burning Bush
Lighthouse that you write letters on the immenseness
on every wounded who dreams
eyelid that flickers in the night
in the wrinkles of fear, you send reflections
whirling star and daydream of the horizon
guard of the rocks hopeless Aegeus
lover of white sails
what could you be at the lakeshore
of a foreign land
without the knowledge of the closing wave
that never reaches
but changes the world
without changing anything
a wise book of immenseness
the illusion of each day starts in the mind
and each day includes
invisible versions of all
complete beings
shivering soul of the bright galaxy
what could you be in a world
filled with certainty
and smooth concepts?
Manolis Aligizakis 