Wintersonnengewandet
kommt die Hoffnung
daher, dieser Tage.
Auf leisen Sohlen tappt sie
durchs Dauerdämmerlicht
und füllt sie randvoll und
noch ein klein wenig mehr –
unsere ewig durstigen,
ewig angeknacksten Herzen.
Und sind sie erst besoffen ,
die vermaledeiten Herzen,
liegt man sich glühwangig
rührselig in den Armen
und beteuert ewige Liebe –
die ganz grosse,
oh du mein Licht
in der Dunkelheit,
»come on baby,
light my fire«
…oder so.
© Michèle Hügin 2024
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