Birthdaybird: Claus Ankersen
It is your birthday and I think of you
It is your birthday and the sun is shining
the eagles hover on hot airwaves
heads as white as sea foam
and the waves
the waves roll stick and stone beneath the pond still
look as I sit here and watch you
so far away
in Frankfurt or Copenhagen in full swing with the dreams
blue, blue crinoline skirt
little big dervish on tiptoe
you dance
a heartbeat above the cape of earth
it is, after all, just seven thirty in your winterland
It is your birthday and I hope for you
You have got someone who sings
and kiss your forehead and perhaps smile all through you
morningeye to soul
pond-still-lively, the song, you have to imagine, maybe
the wind is singing in the tree while the rain drums along
on your window pane I draw a heart in the star dew
frozen perhaps you
sense hot finger on cold glass. It is your birthday
and they party in heaven as here
in the Veranasi of the south
where death lives in all the new beginnings, baptized by ashes of deceased
camphor and flowers on banana leaves
in the surf, for two hands
the wind sings in the waves as in the tree by your window
It is your birthday and I think of you
of this here stainless love
and these here seventh years, the branch drums in step
Today it is your birthday
in the shade of the coconut grove I hum your praise.
*for B.