The last words of a dying man... i heard once, when i had just encountered life... perhaps it was a dream or perhaps it was a message... to heed the unknown. The first words of my own self... i heard once, when i first felt the touch of my mom, caressing... very tender. The life began, the love showered... there was fun, there was tear... disappointment, fear, laughter, joy never at once but spread over the years. The first spring, the last summer there was a never a time so dear, lonely and yet filled, free and yet bound, touched by all the distant pleasures and miseries but still untouched...
The further i go... distant gets my home... but a journey still it is to find the unknown. I come across a
bridge that promises to keep the dangers away, to make life as beautiful as the first sunshine on a chilly morning after the winter hues. The bridge i imagined i wud find someday... my passage from a world unknown, to a world not so known. I could sense the beauty on the other side of it... i could feel the warmth already... i could imagine as far as my imagination would go, the world of beautiful unknown. Standing here, i am still wondering... the first love of that unknown... little drops of rain, the smell of the moist flowers, grass and earth mingled with the fragnance of air, the time of hope and desire, the light from a distant star, the smile of a forlorn being... or the desire to know the unknown.
