Lifeline…

smokecurls whirling up from dozing farms
the silver silence of a little baby's breath…
a tiny suckling in my ten'drest guarding arms
no roof, no room, no window and no bed…
approaching dawn a hesitating red…

I think of ages, ages passed…
of fleeing partisans and popes
of wars & wonders, people blessed
and others hung on lethal ropes…

I watch the Frisians and the Franks
the jaden shallows and the moors…
the wet and wholesome riverbanks
the softly cracking homesteaddoors…

I see my ancestors arriving from a'far
my virgin mothers of the alps…
they may have followed just one star
above their mountain's snowy scalps…

now I'm a child, alone with mine
embraced by New Yorks naked bricks
yet I still sense one lucid line…
one clock that turns and turns and ticks…

where could we go, where would we end
this humble newborn life and I…?
we came, we fought, we weren't sent
just our dear God, just God knows why…

Najade
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