Down by the Riverside, Smelling Wild Thymian

The radio is playing music. Classical Song Recital. It must be an Italian composer.  The rhythm and tempo is slow. Piano-play joins in. Through the window up in the dark nightsky a veiled moon is shining.
The light of the red lamp is reflecting in the window. It is quiet now outside. No more blowing around of the wind. My face feels sunburned. Sitting on Our balcony, reading in the sun. Until a friend called me from Holland. Glad to meet so spontaneously, we talked about this strange situation. Having no clear perspective where we will be and go in a month time.
But I feel rather well, not knowing  where we are heading. Being pushed back into  a lasting Here&Now. Patiently waiting for what the next day might bring. Thrown into this solitairy existence. Still gratefull for yesterdays shared Pentecost. Gratefull too for a lifelong companionship with my DearestLove. And now, for this moment feeling confident that I do not need to search for any  definite way of future life. No urge for push or pull.
The Music has changed into jazz. I love it. It makes me feel serene and enthousiast while I am writing these Lines. No need for worries, just keep open and attentive. Down by the Riverside, hear those fingers play  on the piano. Let such be Our love of life, like the Saints are marching in and Down by the Riverside. Smelling Wild Thymian, enjoying a new taste.