DUTCH SPRING

I walk through
the 16th century
imperceptibly

passing on into
the 17th without
even knowing I had

done so and here
are Dutch people
staring at me

wondering where I've come from
I look into their eyes
long dead by now

their painted faces
gazing out of golden frames
windows into all that's passed

trying to remember
Rembrandt saying "...the light
from other's minds..."

and here is Saskia
still asleep in
a few brushstrokes

I tiptoe away
an intruder into
their long ago lives

different
yet the same
as mine

The Jewish Bride sad
to see me go
back into the bustle

of Spring
in the Amsterdam
of now