My father lived at the top
On the right
This is after he died
I came to live on the rocks
Where you can see the lake
I sit on a bench
The evening comes like love
I let myself feel the evening
On my skin
Trees and stones look with me
Quietly
With not even one thought
In them
The moon, an adventurer,
Will come soon
To fly over the Galilee
Sharp rocks and all
I wonder if the roads can melt
The sky – yawn
Me – sing in a few voices
My higher self is resting too
No matter what he does
His language does not understand
The war
The sharp
The past
The will be
Deep in peace
He folds a sweater
intuitiveflow 