Sauntering home walking stick
held aloft showing
the world that I don't need it, it's only an affection,
I inhale the aroma of nature and in the approaching
twilight, when everything is almost perfect, my feet
dance by the joy of being here.
Then, I'm aware of the one who walks beside me
he has come to collect my soul, which I sold years
ago for five golden sentences, but I tell him that
I have only used one and I have four more left,
he's disgruntled, but sticks to the bargain.
This morning I wrote a poem that had those four
golden sentences, but I deleted them quickly as
when he was elsewhere collecting poet souls, of
those who had done as I, but could not resist using
their quota all at once and thus had no future left.
My future is a walk in a rose strewn valley. I seek
not excellence, only skirting it perhaps, because
after perfection there is only decay. I know he
feels cheated but he can wait while I bide my time
and will walk slowly through the valley of love.
Jan Oskar Hansen
Copyright © 2004