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Rocks travel down rivers and streams,

constantly breaking down on their centuries-old hike.

Once they make it to the North Sea,

they start a life embraced by waves and tides.

I don’t await the night sky to see the stars,

I stare down to the grains of sand,

I see the Milky way, I see…

it’s twinkling in the daylight with silver, gold, with platinum and pink…

I wonder if Van Gogn was doing the same

when reconstructing the Starry Night,

he might have painted the galaxies of sand

walking along the Rhône Riviera in Arles…