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poem for pastors

ich bin in das Ödland gekommen, weil meine Seele athirst ist
ich starrte den prachtvollen Himmel an
noch dreizehn Jahre
unter dusky Lorbeerblatt
die Sterne fielen vom Himmel
wenn Sie heute abend kommen
von Song und Traum für überhaupt gegangen
in allen Sachen gesprochen nicht von
unter den Rauch und Nebel eines Dezembernachmittages
ist häufig er nicht so?
Glasbläser der Zeit

 



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