Lantern

Perhaps the wind never spoke perhaps the soil was always silent perhaps all things were within themselves and only people spoke in the language of things: - No! This will not be - all the same I saw the great denial wandering everywhere, when I was giving all my heart into your hand. When I was giving all my heart into your hand I only felt, I felt, that all your heart into my hand you would give. Between our hands now beats one heart one heart of no return. From on high the lighthouse calls the lost one. The lost one comes - perhaps with denial its own great denial; but it comes - and to the lighthouse it joins. Perhaps all things are within themselves but I, outside myself, joined you. From the throbbing of the flame darkness loses its color and face, loses with no return ...