Almost sleepy, eyes nearly shut,
you hear the water falling.
The wind blows too, the sun is coming down
in infinity, to repeat the cycle.
Little pond of pebbles,
shades of gray and black, silence before the thunder.
There is a toad croacking rythmically,
sipping a drop of water.
Already I finnished with the light,
kept it like a treasure inside the heart.
Casting secrets to the wind,
I think the toad knows the answer.
What was the question?