the tempest, eight months later

by walterdoege

time passage…fast…slow…some stop, to keep on going…the loving road…that spring tempest…throw away my very secure place…my safer corner where I just stay…at my armchair…my safer corner…remains the same…some new book hills…some new arrangements of books, papers, music player and some window paisage…that paisage is new…I take some book mountains and put it at other place…and from my armchair I can see the skies…the clouds…the rain drops falling at window….I can hear better the winds…I can listen better the birds songs…perhaps the house is in a better order…I walk free, surrounding the books…I arranged some new bookshelves and file cabinets…the basement is clean…the house is more colorful…some decorating trials…I added some color pillows…and another bouquet of  flowers…a petit bouquet…by my right side…near the spotlihght…near my old books…two red flowers…in a painture…a painture oil… my mother’s gift..that painture is now, near another…two green  flowers…at a blue horizon…roll on, summer, roll on…and all birds and flowers like…summer, autumn, winter or spring…roll on, summer…roll on, loving road…rock the real…create new realities…roll on, summer, roll…I go along seasons river…the flowing river…the loving river…I keep on writing…I take some stop…to keep on going…the loving river…roll on, summer, roll…I go trustful in human goodness…roll on, loving road…and leave within