Lifetimes

There are days of color and days of darkness,

Days of joy or dismay,

Days to cherish, days to run away from,

With meanings within,

And without,

We have lived the stories one after the other,

Expected or unexpected, chosen and not asked for,

More chosen then not,

Perfect is this sunny sleepness morning that I am waking up to,

And was perfect, so they say, the day with the gloom and the pain,

You and me, met again and maybe for the first time,

Under the olive tree, near the cactus, 

Enjoying the redness of the Japanese roses, 

with a hint of its yellow dust in our hands.