I shall try to write a small stone here every day 🙂 and also on “writing your way home”.
At first glance, I think this year will last
to make fine memories, cherished once,
when time that’s now, has sunk into the past.
And I moved on
as if nothing happend
and nothing happend
as if I moved on.
But the tree knows me
and knows this will pass
as change is in the air.
There is a storm coming up.
Nothing will be the same
After she had removed the stain
caused by her bleeding heart
she decided: never white carpets again.
Finding my way back to self respect and the water tap, I try not to stumble over empty bottles and skeletons that fell out of the cupboard. How fine is the taste of water.
And the flowers shook their heads:
“They are so blind, Creator, they don’t see us, but only the road.”
“That is why I make them stumble a lot on their way. So they will learn to see.”
for nor reason
I was singing
in the shower
just like that
because I live
and bad memories
will always go away
if you let them go
for no reason
means something went
Eyes finding each other,
recognize, though older, smile,
blink and close.
And when you are almost gone,
moved on in the crowd,
I look over my shoulder.
So do you.
Eyes, do they wink? and close.
No one else notices.
Looking in the mirror
after a storm
the world is relieved
to see a blue sky reflect in the water
that is slowly turning into green land again
A funeral was passing by my window.
In the tree across the silent street,
a crow was watching with content.
Then, for a moment, his eyes met mine. Asking.
I felt it was suspecting my near end.
I shook my head, “It is not time,” I said. “Not yet.”
Screaming sad, the bird flew up and went.
as a child,
I told my aunt
I felt like crying
and she said
if that is
what you want to do
that it meant
I trusted her
enough to show my tears
no explanation needed
I got to cry
with someone present
who asked not
and now she is no more
I feel like crying
Lying on my side
in my underwear
with my back
towards the able young man
who is trying
to make the pain gone,
and get my pelvis stable,
which feels as if he is trying
to shape both my legs
into the preferred same length,
we discuss the water painting
on the wall.
Only when he is done,
I see the water
was not on the canvas,
but only in my eyes.
It was an oil painting after all.
No where I can find my ring
Another one that left my finger
No idea why they won’t linger
Maybe rings are not my thing?
I watch you watch the clouds go by
and geese going the same speed.
I see the longing in your eye.
Will they come back, and will we meet?
She is cleaning the window in rain
and the stain just won’t go,
the mark where she saw him again
the man who would not accept no.
The further you’ll be gone in time from me
the more your face will be around in thought
and shall I look in places, never sought
before, to find you in eternity.
To find the truth in you and make it last,
your eyes reflecting what has been unsaid,
a mere reminder of your troubled past,
your shoulders tired of your weary head,
to see the pain in you that hasn’t gone
it all is there in every close embrace.
I feel now time and aging must have won
your mind is drifting to another place.
The words that linger in my mind, are those
I should have long forgotten, but I chose
to keep them living where they hurt me most,
reminders of the cruelties. I host,
until I find it possible to part
with all distress that makes a bleeding heart,
the words that told me I was not worth love.
All set to go
A wallet nowhere to be found
A feeling of losing ground
Big relief, the thing is back,
How depending are we
On our plastic securities?
How come in parts of happiness I live,
which sometimes hide under a lot of fears
and pop out now and then when I see well,
the meaning lies of being in this world?
If I could find a way remaining there
in peace with whom I am inside, unchanged,
then I achieved the goal I set myself.
How come I am not able to succeed
to do so on my own? I do fall back
at times into my lacking self esteem.
It will take time, but going there is life.
And never I would go back home
as whole, as all of me.
A part of me stayed there, with you
a part of my own sanity.
I call it night
but is it
than the day has been?
Now stars are here
a more or less
I see more clearly
when I called it a day
officially at five pm.
It is too soon
for me this way
to leave this day
in need of light.
To call it a day
I shall wait
till deep at night.
A layer of frost is hiding you,
cold surface waiting for the Sun
and it gets even colder now.
I wait for better moments.
For now everything’ s on hold,
only patience needed.
It was morning, not yet day though
when I noticed snow had fallen.
And outside reminded nothing
of the past days, all was white now.
Some fresh footsteps had your shoe size,
I got thinking they were your marks.
The next morning snow was melting,
your impression became water.
Gone the Winter, I’ll keep waiting
for the good day when I see you.
So this is all, this is my truth,
The clutter gone, the air is clean.
I walk on and tree by tree
I’m coming home.
This was the last small stone. Due to circumstances, I missed a few days but still it was a nice experience 🙂