Little bird

I looked for you in what is still alive in me,
in everything that was a dream
and was broken
on the stairs of the body,
in that deep sigh, in joy.
I looked for you in words still waiting,
in winter that is longer than time,
in the ashes of love,
in the cold of loneliness,
in my hand, in my trouser pocket, in my skin.
I looked for you
and didn't find you.

The arms of my days
wait to embrace you this minute, 
the door
wants to be your entrance,
but
for space, time and love
I'm not enough
to find you.