An Angel in display

The seals are open,

I digested a digital paradise
sweet moments in my mouth
a bitter tale in my internal system.


Men of high position hiding underneath
a stone cold mountain of economic disorder
living in a horrible fairytale world
of plastic design,
design of short term desire.


Who told you that you couldn’t live
from the wings of the wind?


Have a little sunshine
in your limited edition 
and plant a tree,
the seeds are so mysterious
deep within awareness,
the fruits are smiling through the mist.


The seasons are always changing,
they play gracefully
with the infinite dust
of the eternal moment.
The work already has been done.
Have the ability to response 
to a crazy little thing called Love.


I saw a lion , a calf, a bird of pray, 
Angels on every corner.
The books are bittersweet for the wise
in this expression
of the mirror machine.