The holistic view

The holistic view

In the holistic view,
the bird flies ahead of me,
as the lighthouse shine his light,
in front of my feet –
the beach is a quicksand.

At a crossroad,
every exit looks the same,
and every signpost,
shows a different direction.

At the edge of a cliff,
I hope my wings can fly.
At the edge of my life,
I hope my feet can walk.

The difference is the same,
The elements are a unity.

In the emptiness of thinking,
the soul finds its way,
by allowing the heart,
to be its leader.

 

 

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.

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.