How often

I have passed

by your side

rushing

to be in time

for my chained 

routine.

You were one of many more

In the landscape

solidified

of my madness

imprisoned

in a race

without sense

against myself.

But one morning

of sorrows

that weighed down

my forays,

I looked back

towards your chest

rough-barked

And there I discovered

an open heart

appealing to mine

too wrapped up

in the troubles

of the life.

Tree of my path

Who opened your heart?

Was it nature?

Or a mad lover?

Whoever it was

opened mine too

one morning

of sorrows

that weighed down

my forays.

And the sleeping love

That lives in me 

woke up

in a sweet

surprise

flooding

my day

with sweet joy.

© Olga Brajnovic