There are two ways of looking at things.
Neither of them bares the weight of the other.
Dreams being fears bring afternoon tears
afraid of the evening clutter.
In a world where peace of mind is a piece of self
as are long walks to the persistence of woodpecker in the morning
are a care, relief, among the trees along the borders of the river Vechte – twelve,
to be presice, some of them towering over while others are mourning.
And somewhere, somehow in the distance
the echoes of ruins amplify a cry for help,
and I cannot sleep as all who asleep are indifferent,
and I want to be part of the brave.
In concrete terms concrete destroys.
As so does injustice, segregation, I’m torn
between pillars of conflict that cometimes conjoin
and I float, on the river, my stanzas forlorn.
This is my inspiration for this theme and it is something I recently discovered as a mindset. I found new logic for my entire life through caring for another and how much hope that brings to an individual when they have to do things to make another creature’s life better and not their own. Which of course makes everyone in the equation happy.