the patriarch

what’s in a name?

william shakespeare, in "romeo and juliet" (c. 1595)

some signs, a word, a sound
a context in which I’m found

one framed photograph in shades of black and white

the endless singing embrace

on a long feverish night

grey hair gently divided by a thin comb
wide opened arms

welcoming me home

caring eyes, deep and wise, looking after me
feeding the present

with their far memory

heavy, holy like, lines across a familiar face
meandering map roads

pointing to this one place

a big cold stone where I sit and watch the trees
voids that hurt so

I curl up and hold my knees

a learnt by heart book of incredible stories
a newborn hope

for great and future glories

unspoken thoughts in a glance shared with others
the witnesses of my life

my sisters, my brothers

a root, a roof, a race. a sea world wide long
breaking upon the shore

where I feel I belong

unified as an infantry army, protective as the wolf’s pack
a gang that will always take me,

unconditionally,

back

one collective soul and one state of mind
divided in many parts

we can all secretly find

this is my name, this is my ground
the life’s concept to which I’m bound

r. bewusstsein

twentyseven.november.twothousandandeight