They’ve sent me here with no reason.
At least I used to think so.
I lost the count of the seasons
For how long I try to settle soul.
I guessed my role was transmission.
The words were coming from above.
I was involved so much in listening
But only listening was not enough.
I didn’t notice when it happened.
The strings of words came to a halt.
Like bulb inside me had burned out.
Or I became just too adult.
What left with me are the vibrations
of those who able to transmit
The synergy of generations –
The music, sense, the life spirit.
So be receiver – can it be the purpose?
To contemplate the world – could be the task?
Can the explanation be so simple?
I badly want to free my face from mask.
___________
14/07/2019
The contemplator
© Copyright: Борис Шефер, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №121060503604
Свидетельство о публикации №121060503604
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