I see my dog turning old,
lose skin under her neck,
I see her sleeping more and more,
nodding off as she pretends to stay awake.
I sit there talking to someone,
a person who promises the world to me.
I take my book and open a page –
last poems I published about an apple tree.
Bending down beside my old faithful friend,
to give her a goodnight kiss –
I keep thinking how short life is
and how we tend to ruin it.
Alive with fear, running and running
away from fire, away from passion
to live for joy – reasoning and fighting
ego wars while missing everything.
From murmuring blood in our veins
to a little sad realisation,
if love flees me tonight –
I shall not chase.
For it was never mine.
Yet I know, deep in my heart –
I will place my loved ones faces
upon high mountains amidst stars and laces.
Just as I see my dog turning old,
lose skin under her neck.