Faster, faster, faster

They are automatically assuming that making choices means one of them is wrong but you know it’s right and you listen to the rhythmic click of the weldings in the rails whilst your train is leaving.

In your head a train of thoughts is running and you wonder if the road ahead is really what you want and you realise it won’t make a difference with the loneliness that lies behind.

The spray of steam and soot from the locomotive hits the window while you try to look past the landscape that is moving there in front of you before it’s getting dark in an hour or so from now and lights will pop on around you.

You don’t want them to find out you are heading for the late Summer sun on the vineyard you are traveling to, that place in Toscane that you saw in a movie which you wanted to be in so long ago.

Meanwhile your train is going southbound through countries that you remember from when you were young, through the landscape with the river and then mountains follow cold and dark and high.

And everything will be alright you think because you will be a Gardener for an old rich lady sleeping above the garage writing down your memoirs on an old typewriter that you found growing old in the evening sun with a glas of wine to salute the day.

Faster, faster, faster.

Poor

I am not a Roman Catholic myself but I do respect their ways of experiencing their belief and this is why I wear this medal of Saint Francis. On the back it says “Pray for us”, Saint Francis is the Patron Saint for the poor.

This little medal reminds me to pray for them every now and then. I was poor once and living on the streets. That was a long time ago but I have not forgotten the kindness received from people, a meal, a sandwich and occasionally a drink. Very rarely I was offered a bed and shower and once a few quit to spend on clothing at the Salvation Army shop.

Do not forget the poor, do not forget them in your prayers, God bless you.

Spider Jack

This is a very sad story about Spider Jack

Who one day got so restless so he went away
With all his belongings on his little shoulder

Wrapped in his big red handkerchief knapsack

He said he wanted to see the world out there
Even though his friends begged him not to go

So he left his web and went to never come back

And there was nothing more that he could say
Although he knew the air was getting colder

Walked a mile or twenty along the dirty track

Got lost and ended up in the middle of nowhere
Oh so stubborn even though friends told him so

8 Clogs on his spider feet went clickety clack

Off he went, bye bye Spider Jack

Schön ist die Welt

On a perfect early Sunday evening where earlier my family was gathered in the house for a meal now scattered over four floors and Doris Day is singing with the most wonderful angelic voice ever heard on earth in perfect German Schön ist die Welt I am now sinking back in my armchair to reminisce about that same feeling years ago in another time and place so far away and yet I am in another castle of my own but for me it doesn’t matter as I am perfectly content and the world ís a beautiful place and I can close my eyes.