To my friend,
a soul,
a path,

Peter,
always with me, alive,

walking.

This chess game.
He pointed to these four horses,
the biggest figures of the game.

again
again
again

again
to walk again
again

still to transfer
to someone
to anyone
at
nobody.

When this walk
will
never end.

When this walk
will
end.

His words, again
His sword, again
with me,
at walking

forever.

‘ Walking is to release
the ground
and find oneself
suspended
if only for a moment
in mid-air,
an act of faith,
trusting the earth
will still be there,
trusting when we land
we will not fall
endlessly through,
but be caught
as in mother’s arms.
The daring and craft
of a trapeze artist,
ancient wisdom of the child
who knows that falling is part
of the standing strong,
part of the learning,
and makes a game
of „London Bridge“,
tumbling into laughter,
into mastery.’

(‘Walking’ – Peter Cumberbirch)