An echo returns my words,

in a wet morning, under a shy sun,

water creek running at the background,

the trees are starting to yawn,

short plants play hide and seek,

a bird takes the stage,

it sings a long historical story,

a story, I know very well,

I listen deeply,

collective collaboration between the elements,

the living being, and the nonliving instruments,

I was forgotten,

I am not happening,

the earth warms up under my feet,

I am here,

Am I here?

light drops of pure rain touch my face,

you are here,

Are you here?

this happiness, this fear,

the meaning disappear,

I see you clear,

I feel you near,

I who is I am not,

Me who is me but?

A language taught and a life brought,

a meaning created and a reason to make it,

the journey of the infinite possibilities,

a journey, I thought!

An echo returns my words,

asking me to be silent,

asking me to observe,

un-label and un-name,

asking me to receive the gift I was given,

a being in a field, with a quest, has been driven.

When I was a child in school,

I sat on the floor and looked at the people,

I sat and stared to everyone at once,

I sat and stayed still, I was forgotten by my teacher,

recess time was over and a whistle blows,

she came back later, while I was staring at the empty floor,

she asked, if I was alright, what was I staying here for,

she took me inside in a classroom full of walls and peers,

I sat in class, I knew nothing of a life’s proper behavior,

I was in the class and outside it, “praying”,

the crowded solitude made it clearer .