As the content of my soul, is spilled on the white marble floor, the history of nature forces me, to let her guide me along the way. Through the raindrops I fall down. Through the fog I rise again, but the sun remains behind the clouds, until time is ready to show her off again. Rainbows bring hope and promises, of new beginnings and better times, where the grass is finally greener, on my side of the meadows, and where birds joyfully fly. Life has an art of falling and rising, like the dance of starlings in the sky, where one never knows the next step, but the heart always follows the rhythm of the music, the soul plays at that particular time. As my arms spread and my hands open, I catch the first raindrops of the season, bringing the joy of my heart to the surface. However dark the seasons are, the knowledge of what is ahead, softens the cracks in my broken heart, teaching me that the negative will never last. So, even when I do not know the future, or what my next step on this road will be, love is teaching me that greatest endurance, is learning to dance in the pouring rain, for the future that is already in sight.
The falling leaves fly on the wind,
creating a magical world all around me,
where I can suddenly sense the unseen.
Like angels flying on the wind,
the yellow leaves find their place,
on the floors of a broken world.
As I sense the first winter snow,
my heart fills up with the scent of Christmas,
where an open fire warms my soul,
and a deer calmly walks through the first snow.
The winter forest is an empty land,
where the ending waits for a new beginning,
as children fill the air with their laughter.
My mind is lost in this magical world,
and quickly wanders off to unknown places,
in search of undiscovered bulbs of wisdom.
As I mindlessly dance through this magic land,
I find my laughter in the highest tree,
where a red kite is stuck in the bare branches,
and a million red robins are there to release it.
Where peace dwells on the lowest grounds,
love flies up in the highest skies creating rainbows,
where blue tits pick snowflakes with their beaks,
bringing them like small gifts to the ground,
where children receive them with the greatest joy.
In this magical world where everything is possible,
the greatest possibilities are brought,
to the smallest places on earth.
Gineke van Keulen 