The cloak

I have moved like the wind Which goes through things moving them Just enough not to let them be the same.

I have been persistent on the ground Like rain holes because also Joy and tears are humid and want to be absorbed during the journey.

I have burnt branches and excited all the hearts I had like flames. I have laid down, calm as a stone On the bottom glad to be waiting.

I have written what I have seen on a cloak I have immersed into the lake…. I have then hung it out to dry Between ground and water.