Wandering

[Rob]

Wandering



Perhaps it doesn’t matter what time we wake up


or have your last cup of coffee


or whether we go to church on Easter


or watch the sunrise with a stranger


or even a friend.



Perhaps nothing matters except everything


and anything that is alive


anything that forces us to close our eyes

anything that amazes a small corner of our soul


or even a piece of our boredom.



Perhaps if anticipate for one single


solitary thing to come into our life


it will never show up


but instead a replacement will be sent


which we will never like


but need.



Perhaps the best thing we can ever do


is be ordinary and alert


writing down the truth of what we find


in the dark moments


and those times when we are barely here.



Perhaps a moose will come and kiss us on the nose


and we will wonder who sent her


and perhaps it was someone who has known us


from afar and watched us


and never said hello.



Perhaps the meaning to our

whole lives will come to us

when there is silence beside the

anxiety to live


and we will hear something no one else


will understand

nor even recognize.



Perhaps it is when we laugh that we


feel our tears and are fed by the invisible


forces that has guarded our boundaries


and flooded our path with questions


that are the most important ones


because they have no answers.



Perhaps it is in the evening

that we stand the tallest

as we prepare for death


grieving our good byes


powdered with lasting memories


filled with small spaces


where the snow drifts has left us to wander.