the river is calm

days lose their given meaning
they lose their requirements
for where they have to be
and what they have to get done
they become
as free as days could be
as i learn to appreciate
each piece of each one
again
as i look up
each and every single word
that i used to know
as i create a new vocabulary
as i search for a new home
as i look into my map
to find myself..

i find myself in narrow alleys
in dressed alleys
in furnished alleys
in hidden alleys
in curvy alleys
in little-pieces-of-stone-floor alleys
beside aged walls
colorful doors and
holes-in-the-skin walls

some remind me
of images
i have maybe seen
in my childhood
in another city
in another light
or maybe the same light

maybe we see
what we want to see
maybe we carry
some images around
and replace some parts
of some streets
of some days
with pieces of our own mind

..i come back to the street
the real street
with the real name
i wait for the light
i cross the street
and i walk past the river
and the river is calm
the river is always calm..