Where does he belong?

Ramblings of repetition.

Where does he belong

in the heat of the moment

or somewhere shivering

on a cold frosty morning?

Where does he belong,

in the air of the occasion

or on the door-mat placed?

Does he belong....

in today's news

or for tomorrows audience?

Where does he belong?

Does he belong,

in the land of the living

or placed amongst the dead?

Does he belong,

in a world remembered,

or in the lands 

time forgot?

Where does he belong

under some rock

or high in a tree

for all to see,

or is he wedged

in the crack of darkness,

come and find me?

Where does he belong?

He's no longer himself,

self is not him?

Does he hide in his shadows

he has cast, 

or is he part

of a bigger shadow?

Where does he belong?

Does he belong in a song

or in a monastery

where the bells go gong?

Or does he belong

in your heart

in a universe of spirituality?

Where does he belong?