Well, a thousand and one miracles
are not only confined to your head...
The residence of lush, self made paradises
where things are taken for granted.

Is awakening really found
in the wisdom of books
flights of the imagination,
or in lectures, potions, concoctions?

Or does it come in the soiled roads
that dance and shuffle under your feet,
and the half glances of those
that need not declare their love?

Life, it seems,
is not the privilege of thinkers and dreamers,
of those who endlessly ponder away
whatever is left of their precious, golden mine of time...
The Zephyrs await,
and the warm breeze speaks
to those who walk,
feeling the soiled roads
dancing and shuffling under their feet,
and the half glances of those
that need not declare their love.