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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

The whitest Pavilion

High in the sky, emotional intelligence

has not been acknowledged.

I saw it All, coming down, in those days.

I write, I can write without a teacher,

numbers of letters, in and out my lines.

I will not mention, your style.

In my hands, the left of all rights,

lives the eye of a child.

She does not write, she does not think,

it is a child without a mind.

The white Pavilion has a guidance,

I cannot listen, to, in a way.

It is a temperature, across all 5 winds,

left, right and behind.

In all small worlds, the alphabet

is not mine, exactly, by an optical sphere.

The glasses have a special dimension,

I do not need.

When you look, a little closer,

the smallest child in our world

has a name.

It won’t be shared, that easily.

In all dimensions, in the silence of all skies,

it is good, it’s nice to come Home.

The pair of glasses is next to my bed,

not in the office.

It is, how I look at the end of the white waters,

I see them all, coming in, and coming out.

While, in the meanwhile, the optical sphere

has been silenced in complete harmony.

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

January 9, 2020

© 2020 Petra Hermans

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/10112934-in-the-hands-of-a-child-a-small-eye-is

Photograph II : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

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