Every day I die a little
Coming down from the mountain
Into the common plain
Every minute I wait for resurrection
A flicker in the iris
A touch of poetry
A sudden caress

Every while I live
Surrounded by words
However absurd
Lifting me up
And when the light breaks through
The sphere of my solitude
It is though I never left the summit

I don’t look down
Not for a second
I don’t wait for the climax
I watch the words
In all their colours
All their forms
I shout them out, I take them in

Until they vanish, slowly
One by one
Do they die a little too?
Or are they hidden in the mountain
I cannot find