Kasia Fedyk

Million stories given, few received
A smile, a cry, a piece of joy, a fragment of suspense
in a circle of something greater
I could sit here and wonder
not always do I have a chance
among all the matter suppressing
the input, rolling down like a rock
from the mountain's core
sustaining its own direction, its own life
in a picture perfect; everything seems to have one language
spoken in a dialogue
few will understand.

A heart cut in the middle
someone surviving on the other half
still pumping, still alive
but is it enough for what you want.

I see you but you don't see me
vision not always brings company
on a trip between two energies
why do we build bridges
are they for the shade of the lake
when the sun is strong in the middle of the day
not to burn the water and turn it into a fire
if I put a fire on my hand
what will happen?
my mind will tell me one thing but is it always true
what if this fire wanted some water
what does the water want?
what would happen when those two meet.

When you look at a flower do you only see a flower
what gives it life
what makes it glow
what gives so much love to nurture
the most fragile of all?
how, in what moment do you realize something.

When does the moon become the sun
do you think its all the same
when she sat on the chair
covered her face with both hands
she forgot how to think
she was alive and dead at the same time
something was keeping her
she was in shock from some impact you may not know
only she can tell you.

You know when dreams
like a deep valley
and the morning dew in its sweetness
that tries to stay for long but the sun
dries the tears until the dawn comes the next time.