Healing Heart

After I saw a video on the BBC about the situation in India, I wrote this poem. It is the grief in my own heart that I have felt since my mother passed away, almost three years ago, of cancer, combined with the grief I saw in that video and the grief that I know exists all around the world. Losing someone is so painful, undescribable in words, but please know that rays of hope glimmer at the horizon! xox Gineke

Healing Heart

My heart contracts in pain,
as tear drops trickle down the veins,
forcing primal cries from the depths,
of my shattered soul staring at me,
in the broken mirror reflections on the floor.

My hands lifted you up in love,
carried you around a desolated city,
searching for one heart willing to help,
but the silence has fired back at me,
like a thousand knives stabbing me,
in a defenseless attack I cannot win!

I am holding your picture in my hands,
unable to understand how this happened,
yet fully aware that death can come knocking,
at my own front door at any time,
so I close the door and wonder why,
the future has abandoned us this time?

As the sun comes up in the east,
the first rays of hope move across the land,
like little drops of gold being spread,
and I cannot wait for the sun in the sky,
bringing a rainbow into my hands,
where memory and hope can blend,
in a healing heart that will one day learn,
how to give her love once again.

Nail it on that cross!

A flower growing between the cold stone rocks –
in temperatures that reach far below zero,
and where even the animals do not choose to live,
still survives on the strength within,
that searches for life in the midst of an expected death,
that is who I really am!

It is not the hope or the love that forces me to go on,
but the ever-present reluctancy to give up.
A faith that lives deep inside of me,
tells me everyday that there has got to be more.
More than this endless suffering,
more than this heart-wrenching pain,
that forces my pillow to catch my tears in the night,
and my soul to hide them during the day.

A Force that is bigger than all of this –
bigger than our entire universe,
is what the last piece of my heart holds onto.
All I hope for is that this Force,
takes my pain and nails it on that cross,
where it can die along with my tears,
to restore the hope,
born from love,
that establishes a fountain of joy,
within every corner of my heart!

New Rays of Hope

New Rays of Hope

Trees dance in the rain,
as a sparrow shakes his feathers dry,
on the soft sound of the piano keys.

The hot steaming liquid in my mug,
reminds me of the fireplace at home,
but the beach is to inviting to leave now.

Storms on the shore take my tears,
and send them along with the wind,
in bittersweet love letters to far away places.

Small towns are like warms blankets,
keeping the cold out of the weary heart,
where it begs for love to find her.

As an artistic flow of creativity touches me,
I can only take what I have left in my hands,
for it to find a way to come surging out.

With a pencil in hand I sketch the night away,
for the morning to arrive in words and pictures,
that align with the Divine connection with my soul.

For a short moment longer the sea rages on,
and I witness the dark clouds disappear in the distance,
only for the rainbow to whisper the new rays of hope.

New rays of hope

 

When the heart burns

When the heart burns

Every step I take,
my empty heart burns,
like a forest on fire.
Trying to rescue life,
in all its forms,
I make a decision,
to fight.

The sun on the horizon,
promises me hope,
but how can I believe,
in a new land,
when the old one,
is still burning?

Letting go of sorrow,
feels like the end,
of my very last breath,
overwhelming me with fear,
until I decide,
to breathe again.

Every step I take,
my empty heart burns,
so lay it on the ground,
to find life without it,
but how can I live,
without my heart?

Every season,
teaches us lessons,
but this season appears,
the hardest of them all,
so I have to believe,
that the lesson of this season,
will be the biggest one,
I have ever learned.

DSCN0641
Photograph made by: Gineke van Keulen!

 

When a child is born

When a Child is born

The light breaks through in the morning,
restoring hope in the heart of mankind.
The swallows search for their food unhindered,
as the mist clears the sight in every mind.
Crisp and cold is the floor beneath me,
my breath makes clouds from this thin air,
as I marvel at the sounds singing in my heart.
Hope is born out of nothing else but love,
a love that is alive in every human heart.
Every new morning creates a new beginning,
every act of love creates a new chance,
and a new chance is the beginning of hope.
When hope is in the beginning,
written in the dawn of each new morning,
why then, do we search for it at the end?
When all hope is lost,
we cry out for the emptiness in our heart,
yet the hope from the beginning,
has escaped our fragile hearts.
When the red robin kisses the frosty ground,
and a squirrel plays in the winter snow,
a white world drives out every piece of darkness,
like the rising of the sun in the morning.
The song in my heart this very morning,
plays the melody of newborn child,
who laughs in the sight of innocence,
restoring the hope in my fragile empty heart.
In the night a child is born,
in the morning my heart will sing forevermore.

When a child is born

 

The rose blooms

The rose blooms

Tears bring forth joy.
Through the ashes of pain,
a rainbow colors the horizon –
hope is a glimmering in the sky.

When pain scars the heart,
screams whisper in silence,
until the earth breaks into an earthquake –
relief is the essence of tears.

An ocean of tears fills one heart,
but only through the sunshine,
the rain falls down like shimmering stars,
and the rose blooms in full bloom.

 

A Flower of Hope

 

 

 

 

A Flower of Hope

Through the rocks,
of earthy ashes,
grows new life,
that gives us hope.
To wipe the tears,
through deep suffering,
from innocent children,
of God the Father.

Without a thought,
the rocks were broken,
leaving the pieces,
of worthy crystals,
out in the open.
Washed away,
by the cold icy rain.
Nobody saw,
too little cared,
and now it flutters,
into oblivion.

Yet God left a sign,
for the world to see,
the worthy lives,
of His loving people.
There in the rocks,
of the oblivion,
grows a flower,
to give us hope,
of a new,
and better life.