Without Numbers - Poem by Gil Raff
Moving left and right
Your body’s cloudy as the trees
Their shapes lost in the interesting morning
The mountain is no longer there.
You are prone to illusion
At this arbitrary hour
Lying here unclothed by reason,
Navigating without numbers
In the landscape of emotion.
If a soft cloud hugs the countryside
With a warm cloak of confusion
You will embrace it.
If the fog nuzzles your hills
You will let it love you,
Although you don’t know
Who it is or who you are.
It’s too early for you to be awake
Having dreamed this far
Throughout your entire life.
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