DO YOU ALREADY KNOW Poem by Peter Verhelst

Who do you want to resemble when they find you?

You stand next to a car on a hill and there's no miracle.

Lose this
and lose that, too - does it have a name when it gives itself to you,
the arms around your neck, its heels in your back - wide open,
that was the miracle, that it so wished to lose itself completely.

You walk through the tall grass as if you're walking into a sea.
As you leave you will look round just once
and your eyes will be emitting light.

You drive along between the silver birches
to where it's shimmering.

Something soft in the air is singing
that times like that will not return.

What did you see when you were there?

It's fine. It floats across the reed
and it's fine
to look at the shimmer.