As slow as a growing tree

there is something about freedom

as fast as a lightning

as slow as a growing tree

light in solitude

and strike in a city

I wander

I lean

to a motion

of infinite beginnings

with no end

I lit a candle

in a dark winter night

I look for a ray

I look for soothing words

calming my resistance

through the window

the lightning filters

light is now burnt

to renew

and to again live

the freedom of new beginnings