I was today years old when I found out that The Book of Revelation is not called The Book of Revelations. Even though the entire book is made up of multiple revelations. Yet, seemingly all forms into a single revelation. Such an enigma.

Poetry is an enigma in itself. A language only few, or even only one person can understand.

Revelations of the Springtime

I used to say in my bedroom at night
That even the Revelation couldn’t keep me away from you
Last night I had a revelation, that I must stay away from you
Why the sudden change? Why the onset of pain?

Simply, I am tired, simply tired
It is March, simply March
Time for a fresh start, a simple start

April is coming, which means showers
There is no sunshine without rain
It will come just in time for the flowers
The May flowers, a pilgrimage on the Mayflower

Sunshine

Written on March 25th, 2024

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