Another way

Today – I will begin again

I’ll see another way that I never thought I would find

and a turn I never thought I would take

I will say the words I never have said

I’ll notice all the little things that used to make me smile

and when I fall asleep I’ll dream of all the things I’ll find

Today – I will begin again

solstice

as the summer echoes fade and twilight wins terrain
before I realize, the darkness gradually
leads us towards the center of our trail
in the darkest of the night, the brightest stars revealed

lights like mirrors of the sky, illuminate the way
how distant can it be, the image that we see
as we surpass the highest peak
the slope that leads us home is where we test our will

Let me just remain on right here on the edge,
where I can see – the horizon in full
clear and bright –
staring at the world – all within my reach
in this moment of peace
before the time takes over

as the still of white makes way, for fields that overflow
the summer lies ahead – before I even know
the longest day will shed it’s light to waste
though swiftly passes by – will leave us with it’s lasting blissful taste

one and the same

ghost from the past,
where did you come from over night?
face in the crowd,
suddenly clearly in my sight.

the world frozen still –
while my mind spins back in time
I look behind –
catching the glance that’s seeking mine

and I know that you know,
that we both were in that place
where a body and mind
are one and the same

how life has passed
didn’t you notice on the way?
no time for doubt
all that we see is all there is.

and the light in your eyes
strikes a fire to the bridge
on the river in me – and I slip and fall
and get pulled down the stream like I did

out of sight out of heart for so many years
yet a void in the core of what made me to be
who I am where I stand it is suddenly shaking
the ground beneath my feet.

a hand reaches out
pulls me up on the shore
On the pavement we stand – once again
near the edge while the people rush by

all the steps that I took to the place where I’m now
How the path took a turn, and I followed it down
how I sailed with the wind and I ended up stream
in a place that is all that I know now it seems

The world picks up speed –
while my mind returns to now
I look behind –
catching the glance that’s seeking mine

and I know that you know,
that we both know that face
and our body and mind
are one and the same

a crazy thing

It’s a beautiful day outside and I had nothing to do with it. – I’m inside a room, where I sit on a chair with my head in the clouds. Up there I tumble around, to look for the source, the source from which to create. It’s a crazy thing, that thing which is desire, that sets us on fire and moves from within. The electrifier of every wire plugged in, that makes this world spin. – Currently, I long for being outside, out where the sun would caress my skin, and the breeze gently blow away the clouds of thoughts from my mind. How wonderful would it be to be there, outside.. But I’m inside, enduring the longing, pondering the longing. It’s been too long since I didn’t care. I can’t go because I wait for a sign, the sign that tells me my task is complete. the sign that tells me “you’re free! You can go anywhere that your heart wants to be…” but it takes sitting down and drudging the drudgery to get where your heart wants to be. So I stay here and dwell in misery while the sun is laughing at me. The more I think about it the more terrible the thought of missing out on this day, knowing that tomorrow it’s gonna be over.. the sky might be grey, and the world surely spinning at full speed again, not allowing me to even remember the gloriousness of this day.. so full of possibilities, all left unused.. It’s a crazy thing, to want to do what you do while missing out on so many good things in each moment, in anticipation for an unknown good sometime later – It’s such a beautiful day outside, and I had nothing to do with it..

tears

25-11-2014 // Tears of joy, tears of pain. water drops that clean the soul, take the salt out of the wounds and slowly, slowly heal them – from sorrow, heaviness, darkness… Water of the heart, take out the darkness of the soul. Tear to me, show me your eyes in that most honest way, show me what you’re made of. I know you’re strong as well, but your weakness is so beautiful, fragile, soft, makes me want to touch you for a moment, hold you, just briefly, and gently pick you up like a feather and show you that your tears have made you lighter. And they’re lighting up a dark that we all have – you shine it through those mirrors of the soul. The mirrors reflect me. I see a bit of me in you when you look at me like this. But i’m not supposed to show it now. You can be weak if I appear strong now. That’s how it works – but you make me want to share with you, like you share with me – for a moment. Isn’t that what it’s all about? The sharing? But your sharing doesn’t feel like I should return it, not right now, you are about pouring now, pouring your heart out, and I am here to listen, listen to the rain fall… upon my roof, filling my well, becoming a sea of solitude in which you swim. You talk in code, words that I don’t understand, but it’s ok. There not being said for understanding, they’re being said for lifting the weight. The weight, on your shoulders, on that slender body that can be so strong if it wants to – and to gently open a heart that is so full of feeling it could burst – like a shell with a beautiful bright treasure inside – for a chosen few to find, but surrounded by a fragile mass that can’t be touched, and leaving a big space around it for something to fill – fill up the space between you and the present. Now – salty water is flowing through, reminding you. //

Ode

Dear heart that pours this music out,
Allow me to confess out loud:
when you’re pouring out those lines,
that flow of sound with gushes of quiet
expressing what’s at the centre of you,
I am in your power.
I can do nothing but follow that stream,
and try to go where it goes,
stand in the midst of it
let it overflow me
for I want to touch it’s source
let it resonate with me;
so loudly that it moves my core

Make it cut right through me
and relentlessly lay bare
what’s inside that was forgotten,
or swept aside to be ignored,
overgrown by time.
Open up the wounds below
put them out in open air
let tears of salt fall in and burn
and clean them out to show the truth
of any open endings.
till gently they’ll be washed away
And all that’s left is here and now
and being moved by you.

Rainsong

23-01-2015 //

Let the rain come, drops of silent silver sorrow
let the rain come, salt on dreams I got to borrow
let the rain come, pouring on what’s left behind
let the water wash away the dust that made me blind

When the rain comes, in your eyes I’ll find a mirror
When the rain comes, makes me weak and brings you nearer
let the rain come, show me how your broken heart
can be mended, waves of tears will tear your fears apart

[let me – find the words,
– say the salty truth out loud and go from there.
– go one step at the time, and
– even if it wasn’t there – find a way]


let the wind blow, shove away the clouds of sadness
when the wind blows, steer this ship away from madness
and the wind knows, slowly how a doubtful soul
can be bent and, gusts of time to pass will make us whole

[let me – find the words,
– say the salty truth out loud and go from there.
– go one step at the time, and
– even if it wasn’t there – find a way]

 

Christmas tree

24-12-2014 // Always green, tough pointy leaves that can sting like needles when you touch them, but can be soft as a brush when you stroke them in the right direction. Like a spiky hairdo, which was hip when I was in high-school. A little fetty too, like the wax that keeps the spikes spiky and leaves stickiness on your fingers. If you would crawl under, or in between two trees – like I used to do with my brother in the forest next to the house of my grandparents, looking for secret pathways or open spots, huts or holes to hide in – they would tickle.. Like the tips of fingers that softly stroke your back and give you goosebumps that quickly spread to the top of your head and the tip of your toes, like lightening striking. Like the touch of your hand, that day when my feet were cold – in that house where we had celebrated, and were grateful to be there, together as a family, even if it was just for that day – through the blanket as you tucked them in, and after that the rest of me. Like a caterpillar in a cocoon, safe and warm in a shell, on that couch, waiting for transforming sleep to catch up on us. In that room where we would wake up the next day looking out on the garden, and see the tree the hadn’t changed a bit.. //

traces, strings and untied laces

04-04-2015 //
(maybe) …it’s all about leaving traces,
footprints on new tracks
attaching strings, untying laces,
loosely strung over cracks
of things that broke before?
what else is left in store?
stronger, weaker, wiser, wasted
weather we miss or loose or gain
there’s no way we wake-up ended
always there’s another way
to just keep going, finding out
where it’s at and what about
we choose a path and find a wall
there’s our gateway to the ball
the ball of open endings
that somehow, looking back connect
because that’s what opens do in fact
they fill, the story can’t be left untold
it finds a way to have it’s say
settles not for come what may.
until what may has come
and has left it’s mark
as a spark for new beginnings
in a chosen some…
//