The Irish walk

Close your eyes

and hear the whisper
of the wind
on your feathers
-
Feel the whip
of the sand on your neck
his journey between your toes
before it bows
before the fiery grass
-
Taste her tickles
she will kneel down before
the daring bite of ocean
merging with a shy kiss
from a warm summer sun
-
Can you smell; the never-distant rain ?
-
A storm, a stag
among more knowledge guides
the pleasure become pure
on your dirty skin
and the guitar is tuned
for its first wise song