The Horse-Rider

From a far,
on the grassy plain
A young man riding
on a fine white stallion
'Who is that?' I wondered
to myself

Riding along the wind
he smiled and waved
I could not hold back
but to find out
who this man was

I ran to where he was
Suddenly, a cloud of mist came by
and had lost sight of him

I fell onto my knees,
disappointed that
I do not know who this man was
that made me all warm inside

A hand out-stretched
in the mist
I reached out for it
I stood up
and saw his face
The man on his horse,
was you



For Joost van den Berg


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