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…