Seated amongst the reeds of coastline Denmark, mid september, 2013

A last sip

of freedom,

in the eyes

of a friend.

Feint whisper

of past pledges,

by coastline view

is seated

windowed you.

Trembling reeds

bent as bows,

who's invisible arrows

make war on

the surging forces

of the almighty wind.

Resolve remains firm.

(“Not on all levels”,

whispers someone,

an observing spectator.)

Still,

resolve based on hope,

hope based on faith,

faith based

on taste.

Seemingly endless rows

of reeds,

flailing their bodies

against the surging forces

of almighty wind.

I have no such

courage.

Risking life and

limb is

not my level.

However,

I can serve

as a mere tool

at the practical end

of the specter

of life.

To loose hope

gives no

meaning,

in our philosophy.

Let the mind have

past and future

for selfish

indulgence.

In the now,

there is always

activity.