I was standing there so little and so far afield. I don’t know if it was only in my head, or I really had forgotten where I lived. And, how I was used to live… Thus I just stared for some time. What is this TIME, anyways (can I measure it by just taking a sip? one bite?)? So… I stared and saw only metallic frames. The view in fact was changing - getting blurry, very colorful, fuzzy and then back to vivid. And I didn’t even realize how, suddenly, I saw, that behind these enormously huge gates there is something ENORMOUSLY beautiful. Impossible to describe. But being worth to be described. At least in cheap words of human language.

I heard this crying of a forgotten, abandoned garden to shear it’s beauty. The beauty, which was still floating like a mild breeze above every already savage but still fruitful pomegranate and apple tree. Above every single sky blue viola and all the rest weeds. Above this sandy path overgrown with unwanted life. So out of order, so against the laws of beauty and so peaceful and harmonious. This little island of tranquility filled with whirr of bees and other multiple creatures.

Little island which calls everybody in for finding truth in and with our own insides. Which brings the understanding of temporariness and eternity. The understanding of how much little human beings can do together to extend the eternity of precious impermanence. Like ants extends the short existence of their place in the nest.

These gates are open and every wandered can stop by to look and listen. Just like me. And most of us do not even have to walk for that. I turned around and went home. Suddenly I remembered that I live in Roostenlaan. Beautiful avenue without meaningful name.