IN BLUE FLIGHT

It is a time
of migrating
in blue flight
as a chorus of birds
wait for their wings
in the black forest
but politely ask
for life
and exodus

Only the stones
are heavy
in the gravel pits
only the wind is cold
on these dark days
leaves us ashen
a sparrow leans down
from the branches
but steals our bread

Soon the call of gulls
will shadow us
amid bells of the city
when blood is frozen
in snow mounds
hidden in mountains
on the ground
and missing persons
suddenly appear
their souls are rarely found
beneath a cloister
by the sunflower and hyacinth
everyone is a stranger
in war's labyrinth
or angels asking a friend
to admit him ,admit her
this hour.