a thin line

hope is a thin line
it snaps so easily
but with time
truly in hands

it will catch dreams,
lift us up
from our heaviness
towards heavens

of course we will
fall again and fail,
sinking and rising
like the waves at sea

this is not futile
but the law of life
in the tidal now
which is endless,

the music flowing
and ebbing
with a rhythm
following pauses

when we do not swim
we will float,
when we do neither
we will drown

heaven is the other
side of heavy.
birds sleeping
in the trees, on water,

they chirp on sky,
fishes sing rivers,
my heart beats on
talking back to all.

wind takes all sound,
transformed to silence,
all flowers open,
light came in.

when truth is ugly
it is not truth
but memory, thought.
when we are still

all is not as it is:
but it is.
where the voice breaks
life meets death -and it begins.