All the afternoon I just sit
Answering the query of wind with silence
I attempt to catch a few pieces of white clouds
To wipe my eyes and heart
All the afternoon I just sit
In the whispering sound of trees
Looking for a language
In which I can talk with Socrates
All the afternoon I just sit
In the rough palm of the sun
In the breath of the earth
A swallow is flying over my head
His songs seem to come from Ancient
All the afternoon I just sit
Let my soul try the butterflies' clothe
And clothes of wild flowers
Ants are busy beside my feet
In moving the black stone in my heart
Some time I close my eyes
Expecting the dragonfly mistake me for a stone
Ah, all the afternoon I just sit
Let the big spider on the top of the tree
Weave me into his net
An Afternoon in the Wildness
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An Afternoon in the Wildness
Noun by Noun, Verb by Verb: It is details that make writing interesting.