The way home

Photo: Tibu Borgstén

You phone me late

because you are in trouble

without words.

You shift, hang and twist

yourself - 

and I could almost feel you

and your pain in my heart.

When did you become a man

who walks from trouble to trouble

like a little boy 

lost in a Big Life?

Oh boy, and when do you learn

not to blame others for your own

kindness and vulnerability?

When are you gonna start to see

what you have become - a fine man

with such a unique heart.

Dont just phone me late

like ordering a pizza

from a ordinary friend with

some smooth talking and sighing

hidden mush on the line -

and a shared silence

full with understanding and longing.

I´m just wondering

when are you going to find yourself

and the way home

or are you just going to fly

around forever - hurting yourself?

Are you really never going to see 

life as a part of the story

of the Paradise of your own.