Sand on my feet,
I walk into the ocean,
to find the sea shells,
the size of my heart.
Rejuvenated,
I become a child,
in the hands of the ocean,
where I free fall,
in the arms of love.
With bucket and spade,
I create sand castles,
until my dreams,
in purple shades,
send bubbles,
into the world.
There I fly,
in the arms,
of my inner child,
until a coral reef,
gives birth,
to my young heart!
Ocean Life
Her heart is like an ocean without life,
a deep black pool of nothing,
who hungers for a coral reef,
for turtles and fish in her sea.
She hungers for surfers and swimmers,
for boats sailing on her surface.
She hungers for birds in the sky,
that hunt for flying fish,
jumping out of her water.
She hungers for someone,
to touch her skin until he sinks in,
deep into the her essence.
She longs for understanding,
the problems that she brings,
because so many ruined her waters,
that she, herself, does not know,
how she really has to swim,
inside her own water reflection.
She longs for someone,
who will take the time,
to dive deep inside of her,
exploring ever corner of,
her deep sea levels and coral reefs,
researching the way to take care of her,
when she can no longer do it herself.
She longs for children,
playing at the shore,
dipping their little feet,
in her shallow waters,
until they learn how to swim,
and they embrace her,
with joy and laughter.
Her heart longs for life,
in that deep black pool of nothing,
that never seems to end.
And until then she dreams,
of a life she has never seen,
that is waiting for her,
beyond the horizon.
The torn womb bleeds,
the deepest color red,
as broken dreams scatter,
across an endless waterfall,
where my tears,
are salty on my cheek.
The leaves fall down,
onto the damp ground,
where a swamp,
is growing grey and old.
Twigs breaks on the wind,
that is howling,
like a sad and lonely wolf.
Desolate places scream,
for endless rains of mercy,
but deaf ears cannot see,
this crystal clear reality,
that the winter will not end,
until the beginning,
of the first spring.
Fleeting hope breaks,
the fragile heart in two,
but when the soul,
is willing to fall in love,
hope arises like an eagle,
on the wings of a swan,
and burns like a golden torch,
for all eternity.
Soar,
My lips are painful and dry, as if I have been walking, through the desert for weeks. Now I am longing for streams of water, surrounding my body and soul. For the wind to lift me up, and give me wings like angels, so I can rise above myself – to see myself from a new perspective, if only these glasses were helping me! I spend my days in meditation, where a continuous flow of words, makes her way from my heart to yours. Gratitude is what I always learned, but now I am longing for more, because I feel that I am ready, to open my heart and fly, out of this desert into the promised land, I am ready to soar!
In my disbelief
When the land is in sight,
after an endless journey,
my heart fills with joy,
until I remember,
that the last steps,
are usually the hardest.
With the sweat on my brow,
I cry silent tears,
in my hopeless heart.
Is it a fata morgana?
An illusion in my mind?
In the extreme exhaustion,
my heart becomes confused,
wondering whether I had it right.
Was this the land,
the land that God asked me to go to?
Or was I mistaken,
wrong about everything I thought,
God spoke to me in dreams?
I pray,
first silently,
then louder and louder,
until my heart screams,
“Why have you forsaken me”?
The inches I walk become slower,
until I stand still in awe of myself,
my misunderstanding,
my hopes and dreams in something,
that might never be.
So, now I am at a crossroad.
Wondering whether to continue,
this extreme endurance,
or whether to go back,
to the life I knew before.
I do not know…
So, I wait for the silent whisper,
gently encouraging me,
to put my one foot,
in front of the other,
in blind courage,
in blind faith,
of an invisible God,
a promise I cannot see,
a situation that seems,
impossible.
Faith is like a mustard seed,
that fell into the ground,
and died.
As my heart is slowly dying,
I know a tree will spring up,
in the depth of my heart,
with strong roots,
able to conquer any storm.
Looking around this endless desert,
I still see the small houses,
shimmering at the horizon,
and no matter how impossible it may seem,
I know,
all I have to do is believe,
that those houses,
no matter how unreal they seem,
are put there for me.
Victory comes to those,
who choose to go on,
when everything inside,
tells them to give up!
So, I choose victory,
in whatever form it comes,
so that one day I can tell,
a world of disbelief,
that the Spirit kept me going,
when I could not belief.
To God be the glory,
for He was with me!
Take the first step
The blurred window shows,
only a glimpse of what is seen,
behind the front door of my house.
Colors of blue and green alternate,
releasing a spiritual sensation,
in the quiet corners of my heart.
I want to approach it,
feel the texture of the uneven glass,
as if my hand can reach through it.
I want to open the door,
run outside on my bare feet,
to feel the soft grass tickle my toes.
But something stops me.
Something holds my feet,
and all I can do is press my forehead,
gently against the cold glass.
Hesitation is the essence of doubt,
which is the beginning of fear.
I have to choose.
The choice of trust leads me,
on the greatest adventures.
The choice of fear leads me,
to an impasse in my life.
Even when my hands tremble,
or when my heart is filled with doubt,
I open the door with the blurred window –
A symbolism of the future.
Because sometimes our future,
is like opening a door with a blurred window.
All you can see is the outlines and colors,
the essence of what it has to be,
but you cannot see the full picture.
All you can do is trust.
Trust the outcome.
Trust your own ability,
your own beautiful self.
All you can do is take the first step,
knowing that fear is the lie,
we tell when we doubt ourselves.
To take a step is to make a choice.
To make a choice is asking yourself,
this one single question,
do I really trust myself?
A wish upon a star
When a star falls from the sky,
my heart creates a wish,
for the soul she was born in.
The tight rope holds me up,
while my hands and feet search,
for steady ground to hold onto.
Layers of rock tumble down,
avoiding my delicate heart by miracle,
until the dark night sets in around me.
When light meets fear,
it drives out every form of darkness,
until dreams come to life in the dark night.
This is joy to me!
In the deepest darkness,
joy is that little light,
pushing away the pain,
so you can move your feet.
Joy is walking on water,
where the deep black depth,
is far underneath you,
even though the waters,
still roar all around you.
Joy is standing on a mountain top,
where the difficult journey is behind you,
and the view reminds you,
that the impossible was possible after all.
Joy is the rope,
that keeps you from falling down.
Joy is the focus,
that keeps you moving forward,
for dreaming with joy,
instills a deep hope,
that gives you wings to fly,
in the greatest storms.
Born out of love,
joy is the light that feeds us,
with happy memories from the past.
Joy shows us,
that new experiences,
however difficult they are,
can be fun,
in the presence of loving friends.
Joy is an arm around your shoulder,
it is a tissue when you grieve.
Joy in the face of love,
is all we really need,
in a world filled with darkness,
this is joy to me!
Broken dreams
As the fallen snow turns into ice,
the freezing cold blows me away,
forcing an ice-age into the summer,
where icicles melt in the desert heat,
and water is a burden instead of a relief.
My eyes hurt with burning pains,
the tears have turned into dry salt,
while fire burns my skin to the bone.
I’m blaming the snow-storm in the desert,
for its lack of interest in the growing pains.
Selfishness is always the beginning of nothing,
but when I search for something,
selfishness comes knocking at my door.
My life has never been my own,
no matter how I wrestled with the universe,
it never chose my side in the storm.
Now I’m fighting thin air on the steep slope,
beating me into the thick trees on the road.
As I lay down in the snow and pray,
the daisies cheer me up with their mandolin music,
and the sun warms my face with peace,
until Love breaks the centre of my soul,
and thick teardrops work its way down,
for the broken dreams I never wanted to give up.
Bring back my broken dreams,
and plant them in the ground,
to grow them into rose bushes.
So my dreams will never get lost in the snow,
and my teardrops are not a waste in the universe.
Give them a place in Your paradise,
so Your children can find their way home.
The intersection of life
In the middle of the forest,
pictures show me many sights,
to unfold a labyrinth in my mind.
With the key in my hands I walk,
until the soles of my shoes are worn out.
Deeper and deeper into the tangled mess,
my breath quickens and my heart races.
If the Light is still in sight,
why then does this road lead me here?
Further into the forest,
where darkness surrounds me,
I am tricked by my own imagination.
Learning to see the Light in the darkness,
I first have to separate the darkness from the Light.
Panic is the inability to connect with your soul,
and I haven’t connected with mine for years.
Still Your voice asks me to walk on,
and I walk until the road ends.
There on the intersection of life,
when all control has been taken out of my hands,
You ask me to let go in trust.
On my knees I plead for mercy,
until I have nothing more to say,
and I collapse on the cold cobblestones.
With the rain washing the last black stains away,
butterflies start to flutter out of my hair,
onto the roses that grow in my hands,
Sometimes in order to gain life,
you have to give it up.
In the silence the cold nights slowly heat up again,
until a small fire resurfaces in my fragile heart.
Doors can only be opened,
when we give the key to the One who owns life.
Ways can only be paved,
by the One who created them in the first place.
As the sky clears and the forest fades,
the smile on Your face hands me my victory,
for all I had to do to succeed,
is to let go of the control within me.
Gineke van Keulen 