на дядо Макс

                                Пътища.
                                        Съдби.
                                             Човеци.
                                Срещи, разминавания.
                                Болка,
                                       обич,
                                           грях
                                и отново болка.
                                После и омразата,
                                но и тя боли.
                                Хора.
                                Колко са различни
                                или пък еднакви...
                                Пътища.
                                      Гладки, каменливи.
                                                       Стръмни.
                                               Прави, криволичещи.
                                                    Стари, запустели.
                                                                  Нови.
                                                                       Незапочнати.
                                Срещат се и разминават.
                                Спират се и продължават,
                                    но посоката сменили
                                         във стремежа си
                                                 да се пресекат и да се слеят
                                                    с други път
                                                       или пътечка.
                                    Хора.
                                 Те по тези пътища вървят.
                                  Гледат,
                                        спират се
                                             и подминават.
                                  Влюбват се.
                                            Раждат се.
                                                        Мрат.
                                  Идват нови.
                                  Пътищата продължават.
                                  Всичко се повтаря.
                                        Да -
                                                кръговрат.