Finder

My worst fear
is to be found
unworthy,
undesirable
or –able

A fleeting memory
to those who
mean more to me
than to themselves

I paste myself
in silent spaces,
inconspicuously
and pretend to not care

All the while,
desperately folding,
slowly moulding
a single thought
at a time,
here and there

and PAUSE …

where time stands still
… watch that dandelion moment …
reflecting fragilely
many alternate directions

It seems that no one’s trading places anymore,
uncertain where its fickleness will lead?

The sheer need,
to feel that wind
No fear of flying
A shame, I know
And gravitating underground
thát full of hope
Spreading wings until …

-you see-

there is reason enough to call for it:

Architecting Eternity


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