Saturday, 25 April 2009

STEF BOS: "Papa"

There’s none above -
A feeling lost
For it builds upon another brick
And yet it is will that makes us thick
Chasing clouds and blow them away
The memory of starting a new day
Spinning bicycle wheels
short skirts, long heels
A summer sun that feels
Some thoughtless breaths
An empty mind
Following deserted roads that wind
Randomly, yet determined,
Leading from somewhere to nowhere
And back again
And then again
You see a face
Clear – and there it is
As it always was
Has ever been
The sculptor who carved you out
You fit so perfectly in his mould
As if the words he always and ever told
Only now unfold
As some lines of wisdom,
Hidden in words that were never spoken
No mysteries of life to be broken
You look at him, and still will,
From time to time.
Peaceful, divine,
That’s how you will remember him
And inside you know
he will be there
when you take his stand
with the rising of the full moon,

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