+Rucksack+

I hear ya breathin
through the trees
like  a breeze
on the ocean

I hear yer haunted pirate ship
named
O`Malley
sail on the winds
through the ol` valley

I know yer there
with yer breathin
and yer birdy festivals
of summers song

Aye,and verily

I hear thee
meditate upon
and within
these very
words!


yer  there
and there ye are


and no other place
art ye


and who with doubts
should suffer
that this be not so
the very  truth from
the mouth of the master
whos heart purified
dwells in the child
of light forevermore:



let him be loved
for his mindlessness
and lifted by hands
unto the highest

let him be wakened
by his slumber
in the love
of the spirit

and set free

for in the land
of the free
there canst be
only that
wich flyeth
with the heart
in hand

that wich
doth not
envelope
yet contains
by the release
&  surrender
to the air
wich carries
the fluege
and marries
it to the freedom
of the sky 


o`there is the word
and the word thereof
and there are
sounds of animals
the rain
typing fingers
and a feeling
of being watched
by the eye
of the lord
who sees everything
and doth not
have an eyelid

for it be such an eye
that never sleeps
nor laughs or weeps
but clearly and lovingly sees
all and everything
without judgement