A million stones
A million stones and almost as many pilgrims
in every heart a drop of your wine.
Ground water, water from the sky,
always clean of heart.
Two white cats caress
and two black cats fight,
two bright stars in each azimuth of the night sky
and three children paddling make you laugh to the old.
They are just stories.
Smell of life, the smell of rosemary,
the glow of the golden pink
apples are already blooming.
You've never been the first
but it comes from the heart.
Are the traces of the Way
-The steps of the pilgrim-
like footprints in the sand
that the sea will be.
Another poem dedicated to my readers in the English language.