a full moon
and a morning star
a transparent layer of clouds
night birds singing their last songs
before a new and different day
dawns
compensation
the wind is telling stories again
whirling up the underworld
tearing off golden leaves
it is the end of a time
and no one seems to know
what is ahead
uncertainty is playing with fear
and generosity is growing rare
old accounts are surfacing
compensation claimed
someone seems to have displaced
faith
caring
not to care
is a sad experience
much more so
than what it might sound
in the midst of a conversation
not to care
is a way of giving up
on oneself
and when we do not care for ourselves
no one else can do it
in our place
misbehaviour
owls are singing in the night
one single bird is holding on to its morning ritual
and the moon is full
odd dreams are stretching their long arms
into consciousness
leaving behind a certain unease
with whatever it was trying to tell
recognising ones dependence
is the first step towards
the end of every addiction
no matter how invisible
misbehaviour is misbehaviour
no matter how one disguise it
and there are indeed
many ways
falling stars
the fall is falling
gently
not everybody is born
to be a star
but that does not mean
that everyone does not have one
only
that some
are walking in the shadow
able only to see
all the light
they do not have
questioning
some questioning
is compulsory
too much questioning
is suffocating
not enough questioning
is blind
there is a golden balance
to be found
efficiency
the stars were out again
and a blush of pink
illuminating the clouds
as the only subtle manifestation
of sunrise
it does not always have to be
spectacular
to be efficient
plenitude
beginning to discover
what one has been given
instead of running after
what one has not
is indeed
a tender relief
and a good place to begin
the moon is growing towards its fullest
the trees are losing their leaves
and there is nothing to be ashamed of
least of all vulnerability
joy
when the sense of duty
is sneaking into
what was begetting joy
it is time to revise
since joy is as important for the soul
as blood is
for the body
appearances
changing the order of things
might be good for a change
keeping up appearances
might not always be
the good answer
the moon was showing its face of mystery
before rain sat in again
behind lightly uncovered trees
preparing their naked beauty
with every wind running through the forest
letting their inner structure surface
in all its glory
not even covered
by a shadow of shame