On going away...

When i die... perhaps my life force shall flow into the world - to the soil, to the trees and flowers, to ants and beetles, to the air, to space and the stars...

May be, i shall be the wind that blows on a bright moon night, somewhere near my home... and i bring the sweet smell of the flowers... to my loved ones... 

...perhaps...

Ancient sounds...

In the middle of the night, there's a thunderstorm and I can hear the rain falling outside my window... The noise of the thunder from the skies seep into my bedroom uninvited, and the lightnings ravish the darkness of a tired monday night about to go to sleep... All the unlocked doors are slamming noisily on their hinges… trash of tin and metal are banging around wildly in the backyard... i can hear the leaves rustling and shivering in the boughs, like a branch of dead leaves being dragged noisily across the ground... Somehow the sounds of nature seem so primitive, as if I have been hearing them since centuries… how old am i....?

......

Words and Silences