the return of the light
the gentle increase
of bright hours
the leaving behind of
a past cycle
the inevitable beginning
of a new
and the wheel goes on
dust
flaming emotions
burning through the body
purifying old scars
into dust
of gold
while
low winter light
opening into new perspectives
revealing unexpected beauty
and strength
in the vulnerability
of nakedness
while illumination is working
its own ways
incurable
openings into eternity
can be so many things
astonishingly enough
when not recognised as such
it can
be carried as a wound
interpreted as a weakness
seen as instability
condemned as incurable
where all it ever was
was insight
escape
heavy grey
hanging over the landscape
bringing its own order
into the short hours of
daylight
one way to escape
solitude
is by
accepting it
nausea
nausea is running through the blood
as if
darkness had suddenly
penetrated the skin
struggling with light itself
in the core of every cell of the body
nausea is running through the blood
announcing victoriously
that light has not given up
creeping
clouds are keeping
the sun out
leaving an impenetrable sensation
of grey
creeping under the skin
while waiting for light
to return
undistinguished
fear running under the surface
unnamed
undistinguished fear
while the day breaks
and nothing seems
unusual
apart from that distant spot
at the back of the mind
calling for
attention
tissues
peace unfolding from inside
opening towards
endless fountains of mercy
irrigating tissues of the heart
of the body
of the world
profound
the call of an owl announces
gently and with every precaution requested
our entrance into
the darkest time
of the year
a time of
profound possibilities