Karin Boye komt uit de VrijMiBo
Het is weekend.
Of course it is hard when drops fall.
Trembling with fear they hang heavy,
clammer on the branch, swell and slide
the weight pulls them down, how they cling.
Hard to be uncertain, afraid and divided,
hard to feel the deep pulling and calling,
yet sit there and just quiver
hard to want to stay
and to want to fall.
Then, at the point of agony and when all is beyond
help,
the trees buds burst as if in jubilation,
then, when fear no longer exists,
the branchs drops tumble in a shimmer,
forgetting that they were afraid of the new,
forgetting that they were fearful of the journey
feeling for a second their greatest security,
resting in the trust
that creates the world.
Prettig weekend. En be nice.
Reaguursels
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