On my way back from Croatia to Mallorca, there were no more direct flights, so I spent most of my day in transit in Milan. On top of it all, my flight was delayed due to technical issues, so we spent some more hours sitting in the plane. Interestingly enough, that precise day, I was praying for inspired communication. And so, while sitting there in that plane, still and watching the sky for a long, long time, somehow shomehow, my first poem found its way out to this world. I named it: Where Does the Sky Begin?
I hope in invites you for some contemplation, I hope it brings hope, and I hope it brings inspiration.
Enjoy.
Where Does the Sky Begin?
Where does the sky begin and where does it end?
Does it think it has its own limits,
or does it enjoy its own blend?
If we were all nameless,
If we were all free,
wouldn’t we only long
to simply just be?
Wouldn’t west be east,
and wouldn’t east be west?
Would it matter where south lies?
Or how high the north flies?
Wouldn’t we all be feeling wide,
enjoying each and every part?
Wouldn’t all we’d be saying be:
Oh Lord, oh Lord,
This life is but an art.
Written by Maria Simurina,
inspired by the sky.
