Gentle Force

Gentle force.

Love shows directions,
but my feet weakly stumble.
The bird shows the way,
if only I would follow him.
Light shows the path,
but my eyes are searching for another.
At the crossroad of life,
I wonder when I lost my way,
and ignoring the signals,
my soul loses its destination.

Love shows directions,
in the lost signals.
The bird waits for its time.
The light waits for its cue.

When I least expect it,
wings of light touch me,
pushing me in the right direction.
When I least expect it,
Your light opens my eyes,
to see the signs in front of me.
When I least expect it,
You plant a seed deep in my heart,
growing me in Your light.  

Directions are found,
in the signs of love,
where it guides you,
with gentle force. 

 

Inside the box

Inside the box

Inside the box,
the noose around my neck tightens.
Trying to settle in,
the small nook is too cramped,
and all I want to do,
is to leave this small space.

All eyes tell a different story,
but when they look at me,
all their stories are the same.
Stuck in prejudices and opinions,
war is either neglect,
or fight back.
Who will love me as I am?

Traditions are for keeping,
but not if they suffocate the soul.
When everything is the same,
we are in desperate need of change.
Evolving is teaching yourself to be better,
learning is allowing yourself to grow,
for growth is a never-ending story.

Inside the box,
where I am unable to grow,
I look out into infinity,
where God asks me to live,
in His divine library,
where His great wisdom,
will lead me to eternity.

Reminder

Reminder.

Through the storms of yesterday,
I am facing the unknown,
and Your love throughout the ages,
is all that I’ve been shown.

So why am I complaining,
about the burdens of today?
why the tears of hopelessness,
when I just don’t understand the way?
Why the constant worrying,
about the questions of tomorrow?
why do I look at what the other has,
to then drown my heart in sorrow?
Why do I focus on the ugly side,
about all of me that isn’t right?
Why do I listen to the darkness,
when there is so much love within the light?
Why do I let the pain and grief,
always hold me in its grip?
Why don’t I take a lifeboat,
on a quickly sinking ship?

If life is so much easier,
when I accept a helping hand.
If my heart is filled with happiness,
when I don’t always have to understand.
If perfect isn’t perfect,
or something to pursue.
If laughter really is the medicine,
the only way to get me through.
If the sun is always shining,
behind the clouds of storm and rain.
If  I’m not the one who’s carrying,
all my hurt and grief and pain.
If there is One who gave his life,
because He simply loved me so.
If I really can, by praying,
let all my worries go.

Then I should really be ashamed,
for the lack of praise and gratitude.
because after everything You showed me,
I’ve shown a sinful attitude.
Help me to replace my shame,
with the lessons of today,
so next time I will be reminded,
to always trust my Father’s way.

Painting a dreamscape

Painting a dreamscape

Inside a teardrop,
arms reach up to Heaven,
and nature trembles in pain,
until grieve breaks into silence –
turbid are the waters that cannot see.

Life is a universe,
where stars and galaxies pass us by,
and leave a trademark on our existence.
In an endless infinity I float on ice,
until the deepest water swallows me up.
Searching for the stars I strike my thunder.
Searching for the galaxy I make the rain.

How can life exist without creation?
How can creation exist without life?

I paint a night sky on a blank canvas,
so it won’t disappear from my sight.
Uncatchable is a dreamscape,
unpaintable are the stars in the night.
When the camera wants to frame the picture,
the vision decides to stay inside my mind.

Only when the quill softly touches the ink,
Divine secrets are told on parchment paper.

Memories (in 2 languages)

Memories (English)

Underneath the blue sky,
pink blossoms blow in the wind.
Entrained with the music,
they bring you to unfamiliar places,
until the wind blows them away,
and they remain a mere memory.

Colors grow in the spring,
to dress the summer in a feast.
Scents emerge,
and make the cold air disappear,
like snow in the sun.
For a moment, Heaven feels all around you.
For a moment, you forget the winter.

When autumn arrives,
and life makes the leaves fall from the trees,
there is only a memory left.
Staggering at the abyss,
you hold tight to what you know –
stored in the chambers of your heart.
But they have evaporated in the sunshine.

Then when winter begins,
and the harsh cold covers the earth,
the white flowers force themselves a way out.
The beauty of the snowdrop flowers,
allows the light to penetrate into the darkness.
The cold is silent and the darkness disappears.

The light of the Father,
that paves a way through nature,
like a springing fountain,
nestles himself deep within the heart,
and form a new memory.
Relying on the memories,
the small child learns to walk,
at the hand of the Father.

 

Herinneringen (Dutch, the original version)

Onder de blauwe hemel,
verwaaien de roze bloesems in de wind.
Meevoerend op de muziek,
voeren ze je naar onbekende oorden,
totdat de wind ze wegvaagt,
en ze slechts een herinnering zijn.

In de lente groeien kleuren,
om de zomer te kleden in feest.
Geuren rijzen op,
en laten de koude lucht verdwijnen,
als sneeuw voor de zon.
Heel even waan je, je in de hemel.
Heel even vergeet je de winter.

Maar als de herfst aanbreekt,
en het leven de bladeren van de bomen laat vallen,
is er slechts een herinnering over.
Wankelend aan de afgrond,
klamp je, je vast aan wat je weet,
opgeslagen in de kamers van je hart.
Maar ze zijn verdampt in de zon.

Dan als de winter aanbreekt,
en de gure kou de aarde bedekt,
dwingen zich de witte bloemen een weg naar buiten.
De schoonheid van de sneeuwklokken,
laten het Licht doordringen in het duister.
De kou zwijgt en het duister verdwijnt.

Het licht van de Vader,
dat als een springende fontein,
zich een weg door de natuur baant,
nestelt zich diep in het hart,
en vormen een nieuwe herinnering.
Bouwend op de herinneringen,
leert het kleine kind te lopen,
aan de hand van de Vader.

 

Born to write!

Every word

Effortless are the words, I write.
Like oxygen that bubbles to the surface,
ready to be released to the world,
Your words are nestled in my heart,
like young birds ready to fly out.

Closing my eyes, I listen.
I hear Your voice in the wind,
in the birds in the air,
in the many faces I connect with.
I listen to Your voice,
wherever I go.

My pen is my only companion.
Without paper I cannot leave the house.
I write with my heart.
I write from the soul.
The words from You, Father,
have become my own.

Poem after poem,
letter after letter,
word after word.
I connect with You.
I learn from You.
I remember You.

Effortless are the words, I write.
The oxygen that fills my heart,
bursts out into the world.
The power is not my own,
I cannot take credit for the words.
All I can do is write them down.

I breathe Your words,
and with love I release it like a dove,
into a world who needs You.

Let Your words touch the hearts,
open the hearts for Your love,
pour out Your generous mercy,
so Your light will attract the faces,
of all of Your children.

Father, I am Your daughter,
seeking Your children.
And for every heart I find,
I write,
every word.