maart 12, 2012

Zandman

Vermoeidheid denk je dan ,
zo moe dat je niet slapen kan.
De zandman is de weg verloren.
Toch droom je van het strand
en van de golven.
Wie ben ik dan? Het schip,
waarin die dromen slapen,
wachtend op de wind.

Enclosed I roam from star to star, I travel endlessly, I whisper and my breath unfolds behind me as a vale, a shooting star, a comet on its way and growing, growing with each lightyear passing by, O yes, there is much pleasure in this roaming , it is creation of a Master Plan and still this roaming is continuing, and when from time to time I reach the boundaries of my confinement, I feel a sudden shiver, as if some unseen hand is there to push me back, or could it be the vale behind that keeps on coming back, I wonder. So here I am, inside and out, no matter how the journey goes, there always will be worlds to enter and others then to leave behind, the roaming will continue , on and on, no ending, no beginning, so is the roaming in the Womb of Being, the cavern of His Master’s Plan.