Through the wind an ocean whispered to me,
as heavy clouds of rain those whispers came
and spoke in touch to my wet and bare skin,
I smelled the distant whiff of brine in them.
From far south they arrived to my humble land,
an ancient spot of green, hidden amid
this dense forest of concrete, wood and sand,
with borders and laws, a true sovereign.
With their whispers spent, I refilled the clouds
with empty sighs and a longing to be
where the ocean is and turned them around,
asking them to come, the following year, to me.
But O, clouds only speak with what they have inside,
so they answered me with some long and empty sighs!