This is now. Blue bird flies over an ocean. Ocean is big. Bigger than blue. Blue bird is transparent on wet waters. If she gets lost, nobody can find her way.

Time to time. She is aware of little islands, behind her feet, dust on her shoes. Horses on the shore, free and perfect. How free can you be, if you stand on an island. How free can you be, if you keep staying on earth. Nobody is free, blue bird knows that. She is like free, when over the big blue ocean, when she is close to lost, far away to ride the horses.

Yesterday evening. Blue bird is tired. She lands on a dirty island. She takes off her shoes, runs across the woods. The ocean is too big, the island is too small. Once she stares above. She knows the clouds that are not there. She needs them to stay right there. She should wait there, until the clouds run away. Waters keep to sway, her off the air, into his eyes she says:

“Now, you’r not at home. Call it a holiday, lay down indefinitely.”