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.
Voeg je bij 24 andere abonnees
Van Ostaijen, een oude liefde van me, al sinds mijn pubertijd. Liefs van Han. > Op 5 apr. 2015, om 15:12 heeft Boutman het volgende geschreven: > >
Hetzelfde hier! Mijn eerste gedichten geschreven door de Meester te imiteren, ik was 14 toen,getroffen als door een bliksemslag… je kan ze hier bekijken:
http://on.fb.me/1P9ZusT 😉