Month: May 2020

silent repetition

of old thoughts

following their rut

without raising the eyes

to the sky

where birds glide

on the buoyancy of air

circling in perspectives

of freedom

golden morning light

falling generously in through

the northward windows

revealing cobwebs

and inner drives

that has not necessarily been recognised

as such

the desire to be

someone

as if being

was not enough

golden morning light

falling generously in through

the northward windows

reminding

that there is nothing shameful

in delight

the length of the night

is approaching its minimum

and the green of the world

is dense

the flush of spring

settling into a state

of fulfilment

if only we remember

to release the sensation

of being important

in the unfolding

of the true potential

and let the true potential

be

falling back

into old patterns

without even being aware

before their consequences are

weaving around the heart

veiling the sight

numbing the senses

exploding the mind

to fragments

stealing back

the transparency

of wholeness

to see the world

in a new light

no longer clinging to

what was

and never became

profound sleeps

erasing memories

every night

to let every new day

be

with all the deceptions

and all the joys

that belongs to proper

being

joy

like a quiet brook

gently falling

contouring every obstacle on its way

to the eternal ocean

of love

a certain resistance

in the back of the mind

prevent the eyes to indulge

the clarity of the dawn

they see light coming back

all around

but inside

the mind is running circles

incessantly enumerating

the unaccomplished matters

even and especially when

they have no name

love is the essence

and there is nothing to hide

nothing to be

ashamed of

nothing to prove

nothing to be proud of

nothing to blame

nothing to feel

guilty about

not a shadow of wind

is disturbing

the rise of the sun

breaking

of form

to reveal the essence

leaving behind rites

no longer necessary

once the essence is expanding

to its fullest potential

morning cold

and broken nights

nothing is

by accident

stillness

not before

but after

the storm

light spreading over the world

from a cloudless sky

gently approaching the sections

where shadows reign