Who Are We?

The quest for an identity
a longing for oneself,
a search, a goal
a bible, gathering dust on a shelf?

A photograph, a name
guessing, scrounging, a game
and endeavour, quest
in poverty, in fame.

A place, a dusty room
a time, deprivation and gloom,
behind, yet still a part of us
will we find out, tell me soon.

A letter, yellowed by the years
a line, standing on its own,
words, a person, a life
winds (of time) having blown.

A lonely tombstone
casting a shadow,
a lonely, crumbling milestone,
no flowers, just fallen petals.

A legend, or myth
a photograph, place
a letter, a tombstone
stronger than rock
weakened by time,
a monolith.

 

Copyright 1983 Hans Raffelt, All Rights Reserved.

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