photo : Pohara
If I were a tree
I’d be alone and cling to the rock
I would follow the wind
in a zany dance
I would delight in infinite soliloquies
then at nightfall
my leaves would rustle
inn the crash of the tide
photo : Pohara
If I were a tree
I’d be alone and cling to the rock
I would follow the wind
in a zany dance
I would delight in infinite soliloquies
then at nightfall
my leaves would rustle
inn the crash of the tide
photo : on the highway between Ottawa and Montreal
It was a question of seizing them on the go
the trees escaping on the highway
and the colours that lived behind them
In the sky of the northern seasons
in the soft light
between spring and winter
shapes are wandering
through the twenty-four colors
of the world today
I will not disturb the water
I will let the time pass
and make its own story
or follow the wind
I'll let myself go in
the rhythm of things
the coming and going
of the world
sometimes we would try
to imitate the harmony of
curves, the impression of the tides
on the sand dunes
to draw some kind of inspiration
to lead one's life
in the delicacy of simple and
and unfinished things