Life is not itself

It is a long journey
It is the world’s dream of us
The footprints that have led away are our own

We watched them leaving
In the silences that have taught us to be still

While the wind howled…..

It is not itself
We sit in its dampened rooms

Born so far away from ourselves
Looking back over our winged shoulders

Where the long journey began….

Painting with words
For Paul klee
From the stronghold
June13.20

 

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