Are there invisible houses?
Invisible rooms?
Places, where one step more
and you have entered
the sanctum of a mood.
There is deep space in some hours
of the day.
There are closets that shut their doors
and you pull back.
Claustrophobic walls,
and you run away.
Run to an open yard,
change a channel in your heart
and say,
I am another story now,
meditative,
running in the open air,
pensive,
loving.
One soul of me is glass,
one soul is stone.
In one the world can enter,
in another there is no entrance
or exit to its dream.
Some lives pass through
an hourglass of time,
one grain of time confined and measured.
While some lives are drops
falling like the rain,
leaving rainbows of themselves behind.
How many mansions
can we have inside?
Then cross an alley
where nothing grows,
and drapes are drawn,
and knocks upon the door
are never answered.
All in a day.