BOUtMAN

WOMB









 



   


 

Enclosed I roam from star to star,
I travel endlessly, I whisper and
my breath unfolds behind me as
a vale, a shooting star, a comet
on its way and growing, growing
with each light-year passing by,
O yes, there is much pleasure in this
roaming , it is creation of a Master
Plan and still this roaming is
continuing, and when from time
to time I reach the boundaries of
my confinement, I feel a sudden
shiver, as if some unseen hand is
there to push me back, or could it
be the vale behind that keeps on
coming back, I wonder. So here I
am, inside and out, no matter
how the journey goes, there always
will be worlds to enter and others
then to leave behind, the roaming
will continue , on and on, no
ending, no beginning, so is the
roaming in the Womb of Being




Ferdinand Vercnocke, "Saint Michael", "Sint-Michiel", Oil on wood, 120x85cm, 1968