White.


It was my first doubt:
What is inside?
(Let me dream, let me try)
What is this all about?
There is just some light
and all around seems to be white.

And he asked: what do you see?
I should've said: I see the sea.
A porous sphere
hanging in front of me.
I thought: it's here.
I must say something: and my heart agreed.

I can see through...
I can feel through...
The most ancient truth:
Every-one means also two.
Because what it contains
also in the pupil remains.

Who blows those white flowers?
Who has been the eternal wind?
Who was that untouchable power?
Who will be the perpetual King?

It is where it is.
It was where it was.
Maybe it will be.

It looks at us.
It's alive. No discuss.

It's an eye.
It's all the eyes.
And I am frozen.
I am part of the ice.
But that's what I have chosen.

Be bitten and bite.
Be day this day. And be in the night.

It's one sphere and the sphere is white.
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