I’m climbing on tops of high mountains.
I’m climbing, losing years and teeth,
Friends and enemies,
Desires and power for new climbings.
What do I want?
To see huge open spaces of Universe?
To touch clouds with my hands?
To kiss God?
I don’t know.
Future always stays future,
It never can be here and now.
Maybe, the trouble is in duality of world:
Light and dark. Cold – hot. Angel – devil…
Not to climb up means falling down.
Falling there, where falls the Sun
When our day ends.
Same as Sun
© Copyright: Захаров, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117012900770
Свидетельство о публикации №117012900770
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