Poetry

When life takes me
over ghastly paths with a precipice
I want to stray into the darkness

but still your heaven is stretched out blue over me,
with the sun burning intense warm white
and I look at the moon where it’s high,
or low in a variety of
yellow, white and even silver colours

and when the wind rises cruelly to devour me
You are always there with arms wide open,
like a father coming to the rescue,
who is already running
while I am still far over the hill.