think of the distance between two human hands
and the night sky dressed in white flowers
where only the bird beak of the moon can pick the seeds ..
think of the light years of the interplanetary calendar
with distances which cause the thought container to topple ..
but still the earth harp accepts the fingertips of rain
when they hit the strings in the beautiful prelude of silence ..
and my hand traces all your beautiful coastlines
in order to drown in your gaze or once again retrieve the sun’s pulse
which drives us on beyond every circumference ..
we glide through the blood’s net of notes in the very labyrinth of life
where our breath oscillates between the soft and the strong ..
we can force the light out of the tunnel opening blinding us
then turn the rudder in order to run aground on a bleached shoreline ..
listen to the wind and our shouts when the sea breaks against the cliffs
and the second’s own components explode in foam
an airy water-net revealing the carnival underneath the make-up ..
there is a lushness of lips growing on every rainforest branch
and underneath the bark the wind musicians sit practicing their work
every string-busted and naked nerve lost in overtones
a symbiosis of coral breath at each other’s expense ..
in the city jungle on the other hand love may be a snakebite
not only hitting the eye but with poison spreading in the landscape of the flesh
for the human being does not always recognize his own walls
nor does he stop in these endless dreamy movements
even outside the reach of his gaze and in moral riverbeds ..
still everything consists of pictures cut out from the same reality
radioactively the sap rises in bark and skin mixed with visions
a conglomerate of desire flickered into blood showers and watered flowers
everything which sinks and gathers in a puddle around our feet ..
does this hand catch up with you before you disappear over the ridge
do the leaves cover their ears before they hit the grassy knoll in thunder
does an unknown woman live in every man’s heart?
see life climb higher and higher towards the gull’s cry in the mainsail
between your oxygen-drunk lungs and the jackal in your own throat
the way the ecstasy in the pit of a sweet cherry flowers in the next generation ..
with the seed as map reader we will conquer new and unknown fruits
still part of a solar system forever fleeing from itself
the way every thought is a kingfisher across its own sky