A Soft Memory and Now

we sail paper boats down the river. 

we can hardly see anything around. 

the mist is a kind of mistake 

and also an old friend. 

I bow behind your bowing 

and see behind your ear 

a gentle little spot 

of my truth and care, 

of a warm house and of greenpink fields. so 

we sail boats and speechless swear, 

in the name of the inner voice, 

not to stop forever and ever, while in the 

no light country they speak dark 

things about us, let them try to dark us, 

they can't, they can't, oh, they can't. 

down the water of light 

streams the light and we are 

a part of it now. we are two 

light boats of love and care, 

sailing up with a soft tie of touch.