A boy with no name,
with many different faces
faces life
search, get lost,
stumbles and gets up
on sharp rocks
reflection … to a sea of freedom.

With its roots it has borne fruit on the earth.
Sun-hungry land.
Darkness like an eclipse
he had covered his face
and now he walks down the street
without art or part
helpless on a razor’s edge.

Without roots
the dispossessed are growing
devoid of worship and affections.

Foolish and dishonest spectators
they throw insults
and shame on those who have no faults.
An underdog … without origins or identity,
nor name. Confused, just confused.

Everything we see and breathe
around us is the energy that accompanies us
like an eternal shimmer of seasons …
it is what man has fled from: disobedience!
To think you are eternal.
Without roots I will have none yet for my ships.
Without origins I get confused in chaos,
there where every human form is created and recreated.