Made of fire. Part seven

Orange

Maturity is anchored
To the wild side of us,
To our spontaneous self-expression,
Our deep dive into dignity.

Maturity is a blend of qualities
We obtain by getting ripe

Or by getting frozen.

He's made of fire,
Bold minimalistic lines,

'Yes', 'no' and nothing in between.

She's made of caleidoscopes,
Cold winter streets,
Long phrases,
Gruesome or beautifully arranged
And vague as fog.


But they both know
The shock of land trembling under their feet,
The emptiness of old flats,
The growing excitement of living in the fast lane,

The fearless
Attitude
Of long and colourful dreams,

Boisterous holidays for the regular people,
Long processions during which they have to stand in line with the others
And family legends,
Which include famine legends.

The next summer
Is about to be shining and fruitful.

We will have a great deal of bread
And freedom,
And our names will shine
Like the setting sun.

The pulchritude
Of amber-glowing
Silent sunlight
Brings to the end

Day seven.