He never revealed himself.
But I had no doubt.
We could see the barbwire
and chimneys as everyone jumped out.
We found our gate in a trailor in a carpark.
A young boy came running like an angry shark.
Wrestless, frustrated he slammed car doors for years.
He got to our trailor as an old man impatient
and full of fear.
He quickly stole the keys and opened the trailor´s gate.
We didn´t flinch or even blink for here you can´t bend fate.
He dropped the keys.
I picked them up and the captain and I could now see...
The old man´s shaking hands, as we went on board
to comfort him.
The captain spoke of -the miracle of laughter
-the growing grin happily ever after, -indestructable optimism
and true joys, the names of the blessed.
The old man was once again the child
not wrestless, not reckless but knowing and mild.
Christ was the captain, I the semiconscious disciple.
Late for class.
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