I wake in a blink
sky still dark ink
still there was a message in the thin air.
Something I earned
not just passage
something for the win
something fair.
So whispered ma Mère,
All you need is right in front of you.
I sleep myself wondering every night what is that she meant,
I pray I wont stay in dread.
I hope, wish, know,
that we will follow this golden thread,
gliding through those windy mountain ridges.
Gliding
…
Past a lifetime some youngsters may read these words and ask those whom they believe in:
Is that golden thread the one that followed into this lifetime.