Catching sundrops in my hand,
Pitter, splatter, a golden dust,
Standing in the middle of my thoughts,
Amidst the median muddle of my mind.
Little somethings I can’t decide upon:
What’s good, what’s bad, what’s beautiful;
The simplest things just catch the eye,
Declaring life as wonderful.
Holding daylight in my soul,
Dancing to a hidden tune,
A piper’s sorrow, I won’t follow,
A hidden Angel in the room.
Statuesque and porcelain,
A world that’s made about one mask,
Down below the ants parade;
Watching, above, its archaic rhythm
Looks like studious footsteps
Climbing on and on around
My gazing figure, stone-still;
Time has lost its grasp,
As, standing on my way up,
Sunlight catches me alone at last.