Restlessness gives wings to the imagination.

MAURICE GILLIAMS

It is written, ‘I am making all things new!’

But the chords are a clothesline of grief,

Razor-sharp gusts snap the faith

Of he who would flee this cruel start.

Ice rain beats blossom to a glassy pulp,

A cur shakes his pelt bone-dry in the violence.

from THE COLLECTED POEMS OF JAN WOLKERS (2008)