Off the compass

 Homeless father
where do your steps take you?
the cities of the after life
So full of god´s glorious glee

But a different universe molded us
none of these streets hold a residence Dad
Nomads inside our skulls old man
This world couldn´t vibrate us into it

Homeless father do you have enough clothes 
Does it get cold up there?
The sun half unwound
The ramp of heaven

Your many faces
like these lands
getting by as a spirit
the apathy of paradise buddy

Could we shake hands once more
I guess not
And the lawns and sunlit roads
That your slim soul abides
Is there any goal there
when this life has been served and devoured

I can tell you they are writing a comedy on earth
less funny with you all the way out there
Not even a lense to see us
Just a few awkward glances
in passing dreams

my example has gone
that box of important documents
Now traversing a city not of this earth
Are we the living flesh graceful
and entertaining

The riddle a few moments out of reach
not communicable to the living.
we have to read into life
like it was dropping hints the whole time Father
And you have no more than a rucksack
some direction not known to our compass