I didn't call him, just as the wind doesn't ask permission to caress the rusty leaves
I didn't call him, just as the wind doesn't ask permission to caress the rusty leaves,
I sat there, crushing the day in my palms like an old parchment of forgotten memories,
I let the water boil, and the shadow of the apple tree poured stories onto the tired grass,
He came unannounced, like an echo from another world, without questions or pleas,
The door didn't creak, the floors didn't murmur, for this house knows his steps
From the time when gods played dice with fate, and the universe was silent in dusty corners.
He dropped into the chair without words, like a stone into the depths of a calm sea,
We gazed at the same dirty window, towards an unknown that profoundly ignored us,
We spoke like wounds to the rain, not of wars or material gains,
About weeds breaking through concrete like silent heroes of an unknown revolution.
An uninvited friend is the hidden brick in the walls of the soul,
The one who stood in the shadow of the alley, smoking memories and counting falling stars
Until the time was ripe to enter and never leave your heart again.
I didn't ask "why did you come?" for some doors open by themselves on rusty hinges,
Silence is the only password that matters in this cosmic dance of friendships.
I let the tea tell its story in steam, the fire consume its wood,
The night unravel like a too-sweet dream, without sermons or turning back time,
For friends who rise from ditches need never be called back,
They come when your silence sings loud enough to drown out the choirs of the world.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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