HERE

here does not have a name...

people are everywhere people,

mountains are mountains,

meadows are meadows,

seas, islands, rivers, lakes,

deserts, wetlands...are all same

everything belongs to one world...

I too am without a name -

an unknown seed picked up by the wind

and while not touching the ground

I am invisible

I stop when the wind stops

my yearning to continue

soon humbled by one rainshower -

a flight was just a stage to find my place,

I am a seed

and now I want to grow,

and then to bloom,

and then to bloom away...

there comes the wind again,

picks up my seed,

in it my heart...

I stay...

I go...

from Chile Chico, on the Chile-Argentina border in Patagonia