THE TRAVELLER’S PRAYER

     THE TRAVELLER’S PRAYER : 

      A Poem from Zagreb, 2005

Look through the Traveller’s eyes.

Under a black sky – a forest of iron and glass rises.

The last white bird shelters a city in its wings – a city of love, untouched by war.

Stand still. Be brave. You carried leaves as ancient as that city, and this rain tracing your cheeks – centuries wounded.

Trucks roll by, cranes lift the world. The Child’s hands press against concrete. The night bleeds red in the burning forest. To the first river – the path steep and narrow.

Step through the world, through the hollow morning. Narrow alleys are mere illusions. Stand still. Be brave. These days, everything’s upside down.

Sink back into yourself – into the music, the colors, into his song.

Do you remember the sea? You were the only masterpiece washed ashore.

You swam, and he swam to you, but here, he forgot how to breathe. In this silent city, foreign to everyone, a city steeped in sorrow.

Look through the Traveller’s eyes. Starry music still plays, the old violin still cries. His hands still dance, the heart remembers and still burns.

Your hair tangled through time – a time of pain, of death, of fear. The mad ones broke all the bridges, but you walk through the shattered fields, unafraid.

A new world opens – a palm unfurling. And that city of love without war whispers your true name.

Look through the Traveller’s eyes. Turn every horror to dust. Let your love rise with the newborn sun.