The Flame

The Flame

Your feet dance,
a ballet performance.
In your orange dress,
lighting up the room,
you steel many hearts,
and wrap them,
in warm blankets.

My eyes search you,
when the night sets in.
On the music of the wind,
you dance the darkness away.
A heart of gold,
beats inside of you,
and all you want for the world,
is to be illuminated.

To many of you,
set a great fire,
where emotions are lost,
and goodness loses the battle.
Sometimes I wonder,
on which side are you?
Or do you dance,
for whomever wishes to see you?

To be controlled,
is only possible,
in the hands of the Father.
To be seen,
is a wonder on its own.
In His hands you are,
who you were always meant to be.
In His heart you are,
the flame.

The flame 1

 

Perfection

Perfection

The ideal version of yourself is perfection.
The ideal version of everything else is judgment.
For perfection is always centered around the self.

Every soul knows perfection-
whether it is true or false,
reality or an imagination.
To look for perfection,
you will first have to choose the glasses,
that you decide to look through.
The Father’s glasses or your own.
Through the Father’s glasses you see love.
Through your own glasses you see disdain,
because the Father’s love is real and pure,
and no one loves like the Father.
To see yourself through the eyes of the Father,
is seeing yourself the way you really are.

Perfection is not reached,
without experiencing your flaws first.
Overcoming your shortcomings,
means reaching perfection in the long run.

Perfection is an endless road,
with many hills and mountains.
Walk the hills no matter how high.
Climb the mountains no matter how steep.
Keep your eyes on the road ahead,
your mind on your destination,
and learn from the past.
Then strength will flow through your body,
like the blood streams through your veins,
provided to you by your Holy Father.

Trust is a continued journey.
Hope is the fuel you walk on.
Faith is the power to your soul,
while God’s love provides in all you need.

Perfection is a long road,
possible – not impossible.

Perfection

 

When the rosebuds came in bloom

When the rosebuds came in bloom

In an instant,
life disappears.
In flight,
it returns to me.

Searching for rosebuds,
I hold a white pearl in my hand,
but all I find is the bees nectar.
How many magnifiers will bring me back?

The spring is softer,
than the autumn storm.
In each drop,
I see a divine reflection,
while human lives,
haunt me in my dreams.

 If acceptation is a short road,
why then have I run for miles?
If I could escape my biggest nightmare,
I could catch the bubbles in the sea.

My road has been too long,
I can feel the angels watching me,
and a million wings strike across my face.

Then at the hand of the Father,
I notice,
that the white pearl in my hand,
has gently changed me,
when the rosebuds came in bloom.

when the rosebuds came in bloom

 

A beacon in the night

A beacon in the night

In a hardened world,
a leopard better hunts alone,
if he wants food before the night falls.

How is it then,
that the leopard dies of hunger,
and the pride of lions eat their meal?

Together is better than alone,
for a multitude of eyes see more,
than one single set alone.

Once rejected,
it is difficult to find your way,
your place back in the pride.
But the victory is for those,
who don’t give up.

Remember that I AM,
always by your side.
I pave the way for the weak,
and I support the crushed in spirit.

Unable to snatch you,
out of my loving hands,
the flowers will never fall,
and the grass will never wither.

My love is your beacon in the night,
a lamp that shines before your feet,
and the embrace that holds you up.

Before the night falls,
the light will remove the darkness,
so that the night will never fall again.

A beacon in the night

 

 

Worship

Worship

Love is a heart on fire,
where passion colors the soul red.
Inextinguishable is the joy,
of a heart that knows how to love.

When Your hands hold me,
I feel safe enough to let my guard down.
Comfortable in my own skin
I play in a pool of  shallow water,
where amusement makes me sing.

Wherever I go,
You are with me.
Wherever I am,
You hold me tight.
Wherever I was,
is simply forgotten –
forgiven is the heart that lives in love.

You are my passion.

You are my anchor in the storm.

Your light guides me home.

Worship is simply a love song.

 

 

 

Halls of crystal gold

Halls of crystal gold

Halls of crystal gold,
imaginative to the naked eye,
swirl hues of purple and blue,
comforting me with holiness.
In Your eyes is the light of love,
surrounding me with Your presence.
As birds hover in the sky,
wings are like a warm blanket,
and the wind like grape juice,
on a hot summer day.
The feeling of being loved is a treasure.
Rays of gold light up my heart,
to embrace it with love and joy.
In Your eyes I am beautiful,
unimaginable are the halls without me.
A child in the arms of His Father –
I am safe within the walls of Your home.
When I look into Your infinite eyes,
oceans become rivers,
penetrating me with their energy,
rejuvenating me with an endless sense of peace.
Halls of crystal gold lead me to Your throne,
where sparrows nestle in Your lap,
and lions rest at Your feet.
How come I can see You so vividly?
My heart explodes with love,
making my DNA rain down on me like confetti.
Truth like a sword cuts through me,
awareness takes over my soul,
and in one single second I know,
You are the one I live for.

Halls of crystal gold

A joyful winterland

A joyful winterland

 A white blanket covers the earth,
with countless dots of cotton wool.
The cool arctic winds blow through my hair,
releasing my inner-child to the world.

 Laughter is an echo,
that illuminates the darkness.
The white snow is a wall,
that reverberates the sounds,
in silence.

 The endless land provides peace.
Covered in its white blanket,
snow angels come to life,
in thousand different colors.
Angel voices fill the sky,
only to be heard,
in the silent winter sound.
Do you hear the soft sound in the air?

 My bare feet touch the white floor,
as my white robe sweeps the snow.
My life is an eternity,
my joy an endless well of love.
In a wishful moment,
the winter land remains,
and I play forever.

 My Father’s hand touches my heart,
the same way He touched the land,
when it became white.
A tickling sensation,
fills Heaven with shrieks of joy.

 In this joyful winter land,
love has turned peace,
into laughter.

winter 2017

 

Adoption

Adoption

The blue ocean slips through my hands,
after it has pierced my soul with love.
Vigorous brown trees give strength,
but they take my tears back to the clouds,
preventing the rain to fall down,
on my fragile empty hands.

For a while we shared a home,
in the hands of Him who gave us life.
The synchronic beatings of the drums,
changed my heart into a vortex,
where negative surroundings are washed away,
changing into positivity and hope,
until reality sets in and our home is destroyed.

Homeless my heart dwells in a valley,
longing for the rain to fall down,
until it washes away the waves of my last breath.
It has slipped through my hands,
smothered by life I am forced to move on,
and my empty hands show my empty heart.

All I wanted to hear was your smile,
but silence is my daily companion.
All I wanted was to see you walk,
but the road only carries me.
All I wanted was to hear, “I love you”,
but the deafening silence chokes me.
All I wanted was for you to grow up,
so I handed you over to be adopted.

 

 

 

My Father’s Garden

My Father’s garden

Watching through a camera,
the lens provides a new picture.
A new world…an unknown place.
Where green trees make a secluded garden,
green bushes bring rest to the soul.
She dwells in green pastures.
Her home is peace,
She’s dressed in truth.

A white table provides three chairs,
One for her…she is already seated,
One for the Son….He will come,
One for the Father….He is already there.
Never leaving her side,
His angels keep her laughing,
For joy is the essence of the garden.

The lens provides a perfect world,
where all the cultures are united.
Peace is the law,
joy is life,
and love your greatest company.

Dressed in white, Her body is alight.
Her dark brown hair points out Her amber eyes.
I want to touch Her face….my face.
I want to braid Her hair…my hair.
I want to look like Her…but I’m looking at myself.

The lens shows a different view,
I am looking through the eyes of my Father,
A promise…a place…a daughter.
My Father’s garden…my home.

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.