From Oog to Schier

on deck at the railing
gazing at the sea
the wind playing with my hair
seagulls motionless on the wind
searching for fish
or flung bread

I hold out my hand
with a piece of bread
waiting
it is seen
no choice
greedily they dash forward
my fingers feel
the beak
and are left empty

later on Schier
in the chapel
the Master of Oneness
holds out his hand
throws us words
they are grasped
no choice
being drawn
into the deep
my fingers reaching out
for grip
find nothing
empty I remain

Written in Dutch June 28' 2002
Translated January 27' 2003

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