True nature

Higher. Wider. Deeper. It has to be there.

It's going around, they whisper about it.

If I am standing upright, I catch a glimpse

of it. A location right behind the horizon.

Perhaps, it's true. Maybe a full life dwells

in the hollow clouds that are floating over.

Perhaps passion resides in the bulgy wind

that is passing by. I'm not able to touch it.

Am I lacking spirit? Do I miss fortitude?

While I'm here. Living under an oak roof.

Nothing is going around. No one reports

anything. But for sure it's present. I paint

the walls of my living room. I put milk in

the fridge. All is established. Like a cross

linked to a word. Only when I do take off

my clothes, you will notice that I'm a bird.