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Stained glass

  Stained glass The tiny Scribe - Words unattainable. I cannot speak. What a joyful incapability. A loving smile overflows Stillness feeling my efforts. - “Oh, come! Come and read! Read on, dear Reader!" The dialogue above is the perfect example of the difficulties I am facing. Swell. I would not care for puzzles. What I always dread is anxiety. The soft relaxing breeze lingers around the bench I sit on in the square of Roses and I feel a trembling in my stomach. Can I relax when one vision urges me to visit the urn chamber in the St. Elizabeth Cathedral basement? Thanks to my father’s tenor, I can easily find my way to the urn chamber. A little while after WWI, in the organ gallery of the Church, my father would sing in festive masses the 1st tenor. As a young member of the parish, he knew all the concealed stairs of the cathedral
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The 11th Commandment

The 11th Commandment The Maas splats mocking her foam on my shoes as if asking aloud. - "What have you expected? On what basis are your frustrated?" My legs outstretch the pains of walking from the cemetery to the river. - For 139 years we have known about it told as a commandment but had it disregarded and valued as a forgery. Small wonder. What different treatments do the other ten have? This pensive discourse of mine has added up to the melancholy of the Crooswijk cemetery made me struggle with up to the Hotel Willemsbrug, 6 De Boompjes. - It looks as if I will not see the hotel room where Moses Wilhelm Shapira was lying dead on his bed surrounded by a stream of blood. Although the newspaper “Het Vaderland” in the library suggested an elegant street to be stretching along the Rotterdam wharf of the Maas river, but steel and concrete greet me instead with a raised quay promenade over my
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