(c) Arike van de Water 2007-2009
When I write they listen close
- To what I have to say in script
- They are, sometimes, a part of me.
The fear I faced and face again
- Each minute, day, a lifetime, sneers
- At me and my attempts to win.
I rage at him, debate my views
Of life, of goodness, worthiness.
The quiet me, afraid of looks,
- That wasted hours in her books
- That did not dare to find her place
- Or take a risk. She went away,
- Became a meek, dumb Christian
- Accepting of what she was fed
- And never sought the world again
- For wonder, love, joy, or content.
I show her all the dreams I have
The people that I met and spoke
How I take heart in all this space.
The saddened me, that never had
- The faith again, the atheist.
- She hid her pain away in science,
- Believed alone psychology,
- Was lost in rationalities.
- She died amongst the night's despair
- Could not go on when faultlines glared
I take her to the miracles,
The crystals on a frozen glass.
The systems of a plant we pass,
By electronic stuff we stroll,
We hang over a hist'ry roll.
The God I met in dead of night
- That shoved me into painful light
- To wonder at and to rejoice
- In this world's multi-coloured vale
- The detail of each living thing
- The craftiness of artifice
- The good, the bad, the ugly, all
- To care, to share, to live it now.
I tell him where the talents went
The doubts I had, the sweat I spent
The work I did, the treasures found
The lessons learned, the care returned
My younger brother Yorick, too
- Who faced his pain with mind of steel
- Who laughed and smiled when I could not
- Who hurt, who laughed, who played a lot
- Becoming now, an honest man
- Who, with the brightness of a sun
- Will shine a light or be a rock.
- He is the youth and future hope.
I put him where I cannot cope
I tell him of the humour and
The goals and actions go by him.
The parents that advise me still
- Despite the gap with water filled
- They were the idols of my youth
- The constants in chaotic brew
- Of moving, schools and growing up
- Who helped me to create my path
- But then we chose to cut me loose
- I dived into the deep, they flew
- To stranger's land, an abyss grew
- They are the change from what I knew
- The struggle with maturity
- Inventing who and what was me.
I go to them with tears and frowns
The binds I'm in, scraped knees I have
The questions of the why and how
The wacky, new ideas I've had
Research and test of truthfulness
When I'm in need of confidence
These are some of my audience
- Those members that I write to when
- My paper touches to my pen
- No mortal eyes may see the page,
- But in my mind they read all day.