Death

is the only woman who opens our eyes so we can see life under the furrow gently the morning undresses from the fog cows ruminate the piled up grass in front of them birds sing again calling each other for bride"s dance, the snow doesn't want to leave, a truck god scatters salt on the road the sea has no tears to cry while the brook under the bridge wipes its eyes with a murmur hearts are full like strawberry jam jars poets, baby rabbits, prick up their ears behind the hill flying and drinking the waters of heaven dew on spring lips, - diligent girl does her job with a lot of patience when death is reborn