The hill and the mill

The hill and the mill

A hill had appeared

where the land had been flat beforehand

I liked to go there every day

on the shore on my side of the river

watch the hill sprout

and the trees growing on its top

hiding a mysterious village


I had always known the mill

in the summer I used to cross the river swimming

and explore its multiple floors

above and beneath the soil

it was abandoned and forlorn

and there I could let my imagination fly

as far and wide as my heart wished


But I would have never imagined that suddenly this side of the river

would start developing, that the abandoned mill

was not entirely dead, and still have the seeds of a new village hidden in him

This year violent southern wind had blown ceaselessly

and the seeds had finally been liberated, giving birth to something new


I’d have never imagined your heart lied so close to mine

that your very core lied at five minutes’ walk from where I dwelled

The abandoned mill was in fact your dormant soul hide

waiting for warmer winds to thaw the frosted land

before flying in the airs and sowing the seeds of your dreams


And now from my river side I admire this sprouting dream of yours

I sit among the tall grass swaying in the endless wind

and I listen to the river flow

and to the distant rumbling of tree tops rustling in the wind

and I feel entirely content and peaceful

knowing that this moon bridge your soul has sown

will soon sprout between our two river banks

and we’ll be able to visit each other every night as the bridge appears lit by the moon

except on the New Moon nights where we will each rest on our own

and contemplate this incredible happiness we have reached

thinking of one another

with so much fondness

our mouths will beam in a smile

and our hearts melt in joy