There was the cold, solitude and winter. It was dark; no light entered.
It was just nothing before everything.
Than it came, colors of the spring, with a dash of vanilla scent. In jet black, I saw nothing but white.
In the heat of summer, I craved the icy snow. When it snowed, I missed rays of the sun.
Then, I fell in love with the mountains on top of which I could watch the sea. And, liked the sea when it was stormy, unless the shore reached the forest.
Again, where blue is the blue of the calm ocean in the morning; I do longing.
Hence, there comes the wind carrying the rain within, and Populous trees dance to the song of crickets.
Suddenly, when the cold woke me up again at the dusk, I ask myself: how is it that the sunrise and sunset feel so similar?