O mnie

Jestem jak droga polna, niczyja,  którą się mija,

Co nigdzie wiodła i wieść nie będzie, choć idzie wszędzie.

Dzieli mnie zawsze, tak jak tę drogę,
miedza od nieba,
a poco jestem pojąć nie mogę, bo mnie nie trzeba!

Nie byłem nigdy sobie, czy komu,
drogą do domu –
i dobrze życzę każdej godzinie
kiedy już minie.

Contact me

Ryszard Antolak



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Of Men & Geese & Starry Nights

I am used to the sight of geese passing over my house at night.  Sometimes the mournful music of their voices is all that records their voyage across the star-lit sky. It thrills me to the core every time I hear them, and my imagination is lit up afterwards for hours, and sometimes weeks at the magic of it.

This morning however, as I sat by an open fire in my garden during the last hours of the night, a great glowing meteorite passed unhurriedly overhead: a great red burning globe with a long red tail, flying eastward towards the crescent moon.  When I saw it, I shrieked out with joy: It was such a beautiful sight.

Even before it had disappeared behind the neighbouring roofs, I was asking myself: “What does this mean? Why have I seen this? Why today?

Our ancestors, who lived closer to Nature than we do (and were therefore wiser as a result), often believed that a meteorite was a sign of a gift about to be bestowed from the spiritual realm, or from the furthest corners of our imagination. It was a sign of good luck. Get ready: something is about to change in a major way.

I hope so! I am waiting for change. I am like one of those geese cackling in some field, restless and excited at the prospect of a long migration into the unknown.

And then the words of an old friend come and settle next to me: “Don’t ask yourself what it is. Ask yourself who it is?

So, then I ask, “Who is it, this meteorite”? What does he/she want from me?

And immediately my imagination glows, ignites and takes flight with the geese into a cackling night sky.


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