Rising Sun

Feet in the mud
of the polder
as the cold and the rain
caress my face
The winter wind plays
joyfully with my hair
The grey sky kisses me
the river smiles
as if it is the first time
as if there’s only now

Falcons fly above my head
and promise victory
Birds of the Rising Sun
Ancient Egypt deities
greet me
and I greet you from far
in gold rimmed thoughts
And I know I will,
we will rise



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