to steal a little bit from her;
so that I can take a pinch of peace.
trying to measure her
feeling her through my fingers.
Every day I pilfer a little river
with a swiftness to be coveted,
to steal a little peace and
a palmful of serenity.
For she changes too!
From a straight line to a curved one,
now still and the next moment swirling,
greyish blue under the bright Sun and then
at dusk a moss green,
now crystal clear and the next hour
pretentious, draped in those silhouettes
just like me;
as I am happy now
and miserable the next hour;
cheerful on Monday
but the whole Tuesday I am pensive.
In the morning we all sit together and I laugh
and then I cry the whole night.
but like me.
So I come home, late night,
tired and disillusioned.
and I realise I am the river ... and peace is not to be sought outside but within myself ...