dry riverbeds that provide solid ground to walk upon

flowing rivers that can’t be entered, only watched;

tall mountains that tower silently, imposingly, ambivalently

the same ones that tremble when he speaks;

even the wind and the waves obey him,

what am I doing;

like the dry and flowing rivers that left each other at the fork,

I am divided in heart and mind;

a friend’s words picturing me in the prison of Joseph

not guilty but not innocent either

needing time and change;

waiting, 

not knowing, 

the unbelievable turn of events yet to come,

still very unbelievable;

the word – alone living and active

penetrating

dividing 

judging the thoughts and attitudes

of the heart

nothing hidden

it is time to give account

what can I say

he alone knows

the matters of the heart.