Photo Paolo Deja Vu small
Déjà Vu
Take The Journey

Paper Windows
         Dedicated to the people of the great nation of China           
and all people of the world struck by SARS  
and the family of Zi Shi

I watch the world through a paper window.
The window belongs to the house of the Big Apple.
I see the dragon devour the sons and the daughters,
the children of China.
I am weeping openly in the streets of the world,
tear drops fall from the sky,
the clouds weep with me,
mourning those  who have drowned in the river that they cannot see
The river that brings life
is now the river that brings death,
the same river runs down my face,
rushing out of my eyes.
My sorrow is shared by the sky.
The sky also cries and mourns along with me
in the hour of the sun.
Tears fall on my paper window,
a window at the house of Jefferson.
Between the windows I see the tiger,
he stands between this great people and me,
keeping us apart,
My heart has been drawing me to them for many years,
it whispers to me of a distant love,
and now China is a bride to me,
a home of friends,
the dragon has struck at them.
I can see the tiger stalking the one I love,
I am helpless.  All I have to defend her are my tears.
The river of the dragon takes
the breath of life.
The river of the tiger takes
the love of heart.,
The paper window is now dripping black blood
in front of me.
The face of death eats my desire,
My desire to eat dies, too.
How could the dragon know,
how could the tiger see,
the new love between the bride and me?
Black blood drips from the black clouds,
tear drops of black blood fall from the sky,
black blood drips across the paper windows,
black blood runs from my pen, from my heart.
My tears turn to black blood, soaking
the words I write across the paper window.
Today I understand why I always dress in black,
death has kissed me before,
kissing my heart,
stealing its life.
Death is not a stranger to me.
I live my life each day
prepared for death;
black blood has run through my heart.
Only our love keeps the paper
window open between us.

May 7, 2003
Written in Charlottesville, Virginia,
outside in the rain.

Paolo Déjà Vu


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