The drops of water fall from the sky,
Making darker the light and soaking what was dry.
The birds rush their quest for a shelter
As I’m sitting in a warm classroom ignoring the teacher.
The glitter of the Leman imprisons my mind,
And all elements mix in a way to me very kind.
The wind baffles my sight as it starts to blow.
Something’s still flying: is it a mew, or a crow?
A vessel crosses the white aisle on the perturbed surface
And I realize how far I went from this artificial place.
As I try to focus on the words wandering in the room,
My brain starts filling with gloom.
Has the weather changed?
The birds are now singing,
They are happy and swinging;
The light that lightens outside
Like a magnet, catches my eye.
Around me the walls disappear,
I was thoughtful, but now I cheer.
I am flying with the birds,
And the inexistence of words.
An allergy turns me into a cry,
My mind is in great confusion:
Is the blue of the sky
Only a mere illusion?