my child
every image and every name of me
which they stamped into you
are crutches and connected with fear
they burnt finished answers in your head
but your heart starves for my plenty
for I am only a grain of sand
stranded at the sea of religions
feel your pain
in it I am nearer to you than in every thought
with whom you rack your brains
forget me in your joy
for I am life itself
heal ease and comfort
those who have wounded hearts
I will be with you