Author: nanna

there is something generous about the moon this time

a kindness

not necessarily to be explained

but to be received

in memory

of our own vulnerability

there is something generous about the moon this time

a softness

of a mothers embrace

gently holding tight

till the vulnerability is no longer creating

a state of dependence

there is something generous about the moon

this time

there are stars to be seen

while the wind is chasing clouds away

in a silent whistle

as playing with the leaves

the moon is growing generously

nourishing tides

of all sorts

a single bird is announcing the break of dawn

enthusiastically

but in no way as convincing

as the choir that characterise spring

because of its solitude

it seems timid and shy

whereas

it has taken ten times the courage for a single voice

to break through the darkness

at a time

where the world is being convinced

it is out of place

but can it ever be out of place

to announce the return of light ?

the sound of rain

heavy falling water

in the darkness

it is time to get accustomed to that sound

without losing

neither the beautiful reminiscences of the warm summer wind

nor the hope

that light will penetrate

and bring tenderness

to life

again

there are certain mornings

and certain days

where life seems out of reach

no matter how intensely

it is reached for

unless having these days

is a sign

of not really having a life in the first place

but just dragging oneself

through the existence

while it last

whether one or the other

the conclusion turns out the same

that wasting ones life

is a shame

changes

so subtle

that they seem harmless

only to reveal

when time is to reveal

that everything has changed

that nothing can longer become

as it was

that changes

has come

to stay

sleeping in

without oversleeping

is a tender caress

at the deeper layers

of the heart

releasing tensions

of accumulated worries

in ways

only rest can do

not the sleep, being necessary for a balanced life

but the rest

bestowed on the body

beyond what is truly necessary

as a tender caress

at the deeper layers

of the heart

awakening

with the mind trapped

in the reminiscences of an oppressing dream

to the sound

of a raindrop falling

sporadically

but ceaseless

not in a dense rhythm of steady rain

but continuously hitting the same spot

digging into different dimensions

of reality

it is a silent shift

inside the mind

that is changing the way

we see the world

but there is nothing serendipitous about it

the choice is in the hand of the seer

which interpretation is being superposed

on the seen

to believe, there is no choice

is to miss the freedom

we are being given

impossible to know what has changed

but where the wind was caressing gently

it is now leaving unease in an unsettled mind

emphasising

that nothing is necessarily

what it seems to be

the sense of belonging weakens

in time of disappearance

and autumn is

whether we want it or not

a time of disappearance

though strangely enough

an appropriate moment to distinguish

the essence of eternity

behind every appearance

and let love embrace even that

which can never be

defined