slice the curtain with the swords

while the wind blows

the windows are open

to the skies above and below

and the fields full of flowers

the bees swarm the grass and fly home

and the bears roam the woods and rivers

the fish small and large swim up and down stream

and the birds nest in the trees and call through the breeze

there are dreams and there are wishes

and reality bites

the windows are open the curtains are sliced

and we are waiting for the sound of the time

the hours marked by a chime

ticking away through the darkness