Makoto Makabe

Spread Your Wings

You’re hanging out there
The nights are much colder now
And you spread your wings

The smell of bread dough,
The sound of shattering glas.
There is no essence.

Projections reveal 
Complex system relations:
Shadows in kindness.

So much‘s in the room,
Black shadows chase each other:
A face emerging.

So viel ist im Raum,
Schwarze Schatten jagen sich:
Ein Gesicht taucht auf.

Transformative space.
Confusion. Thank you, I guess.
Courage to get lost.

Transformationsraum:
Verwirrt. Danke, sag ich mal.
Mut. Auf. Zu. Brechen.

Hardware, lock and bar.
Protecting what is inside.
Scars on outer shell.

The smell of cedar
I‘m peeking in from behind.
Open, protected

Morning light, side street.
Stroll through an unknown city.
An empty bottle.

Left father‘s hometown,
The express train to Tokyo:
Things I‘ve forgotten.

Unexpectedly:
A sacred place, silence, calm.
I have to return.