I always follow thoughts; they take me to far away places
I end up leaving a trace behind me without having to touch
Or to see. Magic and fantasy help me fly, and then I try
To think, to remain on the brink of there and not really there…
To write, to dream, to reflect upon…
An island is a perfect reflection of the soul.
The soul can reflect on the island in a way
That no other concept on Earth could possibly offer consolation.
The delineated firm ground in the midst of the sea
The soul that belongs to me and me only
My own dreams, my own territory
And that’s not something to share, it’s something to own
To live through, to carry along.
Standing proudly there, through the times
Islands in the stream, souls in the current of life
Resisting, insisting, breathing, giving a sign of times
To space and space to the lifespan, while it lasts.
Nobody knows. And yet the moment is there.
Every moment a snatched pebble from the jar
Where the warning signals are kept for every soul.
And through the misty murky essence of tomorrow
We fill the now with memories and good times
Because sorrow will only make us slip away
I’d rather be an island forever more.