I couldn’t lie

 or distort the truth

when I tell you that seven seagulls

–   not six or eight – I counted,

    took flight in the direction of the moon

and that the water was slightly offering an insult

  with its restlessness and simple undulations

I suddenly felt as at the bottom of a gap

    a precipice that links two different lands

behind me everything that is

  before me everything that could be

I was inside the great hole that separates the two

  and it didn’t seem fair to build a bridge

sauntering from fact to possibility;

      to cross this gap

I felt

  requires the courage of a climb –

to create a new fact

     demands a start from the lowest point

to climb up again in rags

    to emerge from the deep

after the torture of darkness has engaged with us…

only then can the gap be closed!