Month: November 2019

stars were out during night

opening towards eternity

reminding

that behind the thick layers

of apparent impenetrability

is always a different degree

words without roots in mystery

were spread in the night

creating more illusions

in the sad conviction

of understanding

what can be lived

but not explained

clouds are yet again

covering the sky

this particular sensation

of being able to touch the clouds

just by stretching out the hand

a thick layer of humidity

like walking through water till the knees

an invisible resistance

assuring

that no decision is being taken

while the soul is passing the threshold of darkness

to meet the inner light

pieces in the puzzle

are falling

into their proper place

finally allowing the past to be called

by its proper name

healing old and open wounds

and thereby revealing

all the beauty

which had lain covered under the lesion

inaccessible for the memory

due to the unspoken

that created its proper lies

and prevented the peace

so longed for

in between

places

changing location

crossing thresholds

despite all the preparation

one seems never to be prepared enough

for the unknown

it is tempting to proclaim

that preparations are superficial

that being the case

but strangely enough

it seems to be

precisely the quality of the preparation

that defines the depth

of every initiation

silence

peaceful silence

after endless rain

that finally went against its definition

and ended

somewhere in the night

while no one was there

to witness the dissolution

of identity

no words represent themselves

to describe

the ultimate

they are all circling around

flattering

seducing

hurting

harming

but none of them seems to grasp

the essence that shapes them

and gives them the power

to create . . .

not a sound

not a wind

only silence

and the moon

behind a veil of transparent clouds

kissing the world goodbye

with the soft

colourless reflection

preparing for the awakening

into a new dimension

of light

there is a gracious

full

moon

sailing in the see of stars

covering in silver

the fallen leaves

glittery after the rain

the wind is present

even if

there are no clouds to chase

and yesterday

a heron came

to carry grace

as a blessing

for another tale

to be written

what a wonderful feeling

anger can be

when recognised

and liberated consciously

into the alchemy of heart

transforming old wounds

into pure essence

of love

a silent wind is whispering

secrets into the dawn

not strong enough to tear of leaves

but just strong enough

to play graciously with those

who are ripe and ready

to let go

of what was their former identity

floating silently on the air of secrets

in a slow fall

towards

transformation