we saw the colour in the door, the door was momentous. the door was sad as an arch over only frozen rivers. we stood with a wish but the night was scary. we tried our ever light way, chasing after the fear. we came to a fine draining moment that was like waking. would you like to live like a tree? would you need me in a second? will I live beyond the colour of last night or this morning? of course all colours are strong, and someday I will show it. someday we will live in terms of green stretches of land and the certain effort of the bluest sea. the sky too is blue, it is blue with me and you. the land is green and staring at us in our lives. our lives are considered earth. this is the poem that lasted thru the parts that stretch away. this is, then, a poem that sees its present.
