Into the Wild

You wandered off

in the hills

in the ever-green forests

going up and down

their slopes

now you are

the hills

their old stones

the trees darkening

in the fading light

the sound of the stream

caressing mossy stones

ever one

with the birds calling

the wind that

comes crisp

smooth like stones

from the bottom of the stream

sculpted by the water

the ages

somewhere

faraway

among the pines and the firs

melting into the night

your voice

still echoing

01.03.2015