i perceive

your blackness i see

in the wings of the raven

your freshness i feel

in the greenery of the wild

your music i hear

in the brooks and the breeze

your dance i enjoy

in dancing seeds of the dandelion

your footsteps i sense

in the silence of the winter’s night

your cleansing i collect

in the fire that chars my finger

your face i spot

in every kind smile

and your absence i inhale

in churches, mosques and temples

henry victor      31.05.2007