Speaking with trees

It’s a story that only Christmas can tell

The sky keeps its coat wild open

ready to close its chest

on a stars night

I don’ believe in Santa Klaus

but I do believe that this particular moment of year

gives us the power to light candles

Hanging tree ornaments

telling the truth to flying angels

alone in the dark

I tried many times to silence them

Hell of a path

Blessed with roses and storms

Whispering black and white sound

to my piano bar

I am concerned by how is going to be my next day like

Shinny words telling darkness ?

Blood is on its way

at last

I am going to collapse

in a bath of gold

filled with eyes

The truth is

I need my own tree

to see my home

as a birds cave.