Every soul pulls its sap
from a suspended garden
we do not know our real neighborhood
we do not know our neighbors
not the ones from way up high
our eyes wander around here, but rarely
do they find themselves, only
on the same soul frequency.

Once upon a may day
once upon a same soul frequency
I passed by you, my neighbor
we touched by mistake, our skin
burned with wonder and it suddenly shined
our souls finally breathed, by breathing each other
they smelled like linden flowers.

One day we will take a walk
through our real neighborhood
through the pathless garden
in the distance we'll see
golden haystacks rolling on meadows
water lilies floating on lakes
and we'll sit on the grass
and we'll sip linden tea.