Going places


Changing home for a few weeks

so different yet the same,

trees are green, the sky is blue,

dark grey before it starts to rain.


though people speak with different tongue

laughter will be the same

they live and love they even cry

as putting up with worldly strain.


Walking along an unknown path

puzzled as to which way we came

following a guiding map,

doing without would be in vain.


Some faces do remind us

of those we know by name

our loved ones who we left behind

whom soon we’ll see again.


Although we love to go away

it shall always be the same

the nicest part of going out

is coming home again.



Joke van der Ark

Nr. 183 – juli 1992