I've lost everything all at once,

The golden light fades out,

The rushes of silent hours, whirls over the high towers

Wind, wind, wind, blowing over hot water—

Lamp blows down in a crash,

Above higher ground, he fades in the haunted air.

Those who eluded in sleep, lie wide-eyed

Children wake up and cry,

Some play hide and seek, some peak

Wind, wind, wind in enormous wings—

"I didn't provide a playstation, if you go higher, one must go down."

One from his high window, peers down

At the cloud-whiten town.

We dream of cloud and stars, blown in a stream

More of cloudland creases, built in tower and towers

Something has changed—he must seek his bread

In higher pale sunlight, clouds above thousand feet

He didn't have fears of falling, in the horrible hustling.

I didn't want to be gullible, I didn't wish to know—

How cloudy smells sublime to rise!

Yet, with every dew drop hoisted in the car glass—

One is rising high, one is floating down

If the moisten air is visible: he treads slowly as if it's certain,

Now, dreams of three separate streets.

— 18th August, 2023

How about you look at this poem as inverted/reversed poem?