The Blue BasinThe blue basinOil based paintA bit of orangeUnder the mirror on the wallWith patches of bright sunLighting your faceWhat do you feel right now?When you look into your eyesSee your pupils dilate and change sizeAsk yourself the questionDo you love the person in the mirror?Do you see the stars in your eyes?Do you see God behind it all?What do you feel now?Tears dropping into the half-filled blue basinHolding in your lifeWHO WILL CARRY THE WORLD?OneBrush oil paint on burlap tightly wovenCrisscross patterns with large woodenStretcher barsLet it dry under sunlight, starlight,Moonlight, go out there tonightListen closely to your heart beating,A symphony with blood and air and lifeRushing inThink of crickets and firefliesHopelessly trapped here on earth, joyousCreaturesLight the candles on the table outsideApply new paint with brushes and pallet knives,Mix in the tear drops as you paint with shadowsDrawn in from candles and moonlight hearingThe lonely distant trains sounding out as theyPass throughNow it is time to tell God what is onYour mind knowing the paint dries slowlyAnd God is patient, especially with youWhat will you sayAnd will it all be true?TwoThe stars blink once or twice every nightThey are busy now, making lightThe neighbors try to sleepThe dogs and cats up lateWondering who will be left whenThey leaveWho will count the waves at the sea?Who will ponder riddles and walk the maze?Who will carry the world on its back?Make light of darkness and fill outer space?Frivolity cannot perform the calculationsNor supercomputers with highest speed internetConnectionsWhat is needed is undiminished joy offeredUp in spite of every problem encounteredOutstretched hands dipping water out of the river,Expecting nothingListening to crickets, watching firefliesAllowing the world to carry itselfWherever it wants to goLedger StillHe sits on the bay, every dayFor eleven yearsStaring at the city acrossWondering what it is like thereWanting to be thereFinally a man asks him if he'd like toGo, only he cannot bring him backAnd he goes, thinking surely, it willBe better there than here with so muchLonging to be somewhere elseOnce making the journey across helooks around, decides life is better wherehe was, fewer people, home to live, friends,less wind and rainnow he sits on the bay, every day,staring across at the other sidewanting to be there, wishing he could cross,waiting ...