am I really immersed in anything here
but in a desperate
land
touched by a difference
in lonely days
in sleepy winks
dreaming in an earthly space
a mere doubt
in the state of endless hopes
connecting with you
yet another
living
quintessence of the life–and-death
balance
is it really I who is
divided
acculturated
classified
mainstreamed
excluded
or even
included
to serve multicultural fancies and flights of wits
the I in me
who refuses
to be shop-deared
in this thin-skinned land
of all but a real blackberry
yes. it is I and I am
but a soul who is rising
from the ashes and fire
so a little diamond could spring up
for it is the earth that grows me up
and even if I am some thousands years old
I forever sense
all that makes me
your relative
being in touch with all which is
beyond and at this time
allowing you to bond
with me
in a place where the last gallows tree flourishes
for I know that in a capital of my centre
a wild old of the oldest women watches over me and my home
wherever I–we are-am
even
here and now