Quiet Days
Quiet days and quiet expected.
Down to the lake fishermen lifted their boats for the night.
Marta reading quietly sitting on the old sofa.
Roby huddled under the bed.
Henry
B. Kötterl
Specific Days
While slow moving
These specific days
Clouds pass
Manage laughed
The mind clashes
On ordinary forms
In dark corners
In a thousand channels
Accurate slow days
Deformed layers
On gray edges
Days and days
Henry B. Kötterl
In slow flow of day when the sounds are just sounds end.
Intoxicated in sweet mystical deceptions get lost in the darkness we feel good.
But now we are exhausted in the light.
In a crowded desert we climb.
Like shadows faceless, voiceless, we turn away and go ... go.
Generations of lost friends drowned in rivers of money ever spent.
Adored snubbed cheated sold out, we are waiting ... hanging suspended.
In sweet horizon ... far ... away a star, a planet rises, it expands.
Amazed, a child looks at him and raises his hand: "It's great," smiles ... and then laugh ... then laughs.
In towns along the alleys, the streets, the aurora expands tenderly.
A new dawn invades us, understands us into new areas lighter.
Now emerges the ancient revelation.
Simple formula included in one indelible image.
Forgot Saputa incredible!
Transcribed always in the shadow of the walls by shaking hands of faith and hope.
From time immemorial the Dark Ages lies in the wind that moves.
We expect new day of love.
Just step outside to see that everything is still around.
We are brothers who live in peace.
Henry B. Kötterl
