I have stretched wires
between earth and sea
to give shape to the dream.
Slowly, the dream
has winded
in coils of vines,
it has closed the space.
I have waited for the Seasons
to go by, trampled the ground
and shouted with anger.
I have caressed the buds
and blessed the rain:
I have cursed it too.
Alone, in silence,
I have hoped for its breath,
I have waited for life.
Until one day
I heard the beat of its heart.
Slow, deep and vital.
The vineyard has a heart,
I know now.