• Thursday, April 30th, 2009

My walk around the circle has ended and I find myself still waiting here for quite a long time. I am very pleased. I remem┬Čber when one of my chickens laid an egg and it dropped right into my hand. I was then only five years old. I wanted to know, ”Who came first, the chicken or the egg?” When man “walked on the moon and returned to earth, I would have been very curious to know, “In his mind, what did he leave there?” Some geniuses, as we have called them, were born and have died and others continue walking on their road. As I “wait here, I can feel the word “punish” standing behind my back. I am still a little boy closed in with my four chickens in the chicken coop.

As I wait here, I can see that this life is surrounded by beauty. During the night, I make sure that my mind has a break and a good rest, so that when tomorrow’s daylight comes I will be able to reach for the beauty that should not fall from the grip of my hand. I am waiting here, but there’s no one around who can tell me or who can help me. I know that with one question “which has an unsealed door, I will die.

Category: Poetry
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