who can await
the eighth day’s dawning
for whom the sabbath
has grown too long?
is not waiting
the soul of desire
and impatience
the heart of waking?
the silver-flax spun
of dreams
in the ink black night
still reflects
-somehow-
the sun
chiffre of hope
elongasti a me
amicum et proximum
et noti mei
sunt tenebrae
but the
sun
still
shines
-somehow-
I believe
2007
my photograph from a monastery in Germany
