letter for letter
my sores and wounds,
nothing can be denied
sinking is rising
and humankind
cannot rule,
all suffering
leads to light,
all what we will
not embrace
makes us dark
the raven visits,
his funny tales
make me laugh
aloud.
he knows, imitation
is not a sin,
he said it
and disappears
how when birds
come in flocks
swirling across
fields of snow,
how do they know
spring is coming
and why does it
feel like uprooting
pain out of frozen
ground? i listen,
the scent of soil,
an orange moon tonight,
i hear my heart
beating with rhythms
disturbing the ice,
i warm my hands
at the fire, eat soup,
i fill with summer,
autumn, winter,
all is here
all the same time.
me, melting, my
borders changing,
i must be alive
maybe i am in
love with essence,
but with my visions,
the prophecies,
can i be near?
can you hear?
i am the one
who comes with
the grass, the greening,
with the wheat and the rye,
i came with apples,
but maybe i arrived to die.
holding on to a tree,
touching, tasting the bark,
i came to kiss and to see
but i am not yet born.
