A Chance for Rebirth

A Chance for Rebirth

Feelings are lost in a chaotic mess of emotions,
I try to untangle the knots in the threads,
but somehow the frame remains broken,
and the paint is slowly dripping from the canvas.

Am I losing myself in this seemingly endless battle?
Do we all lose ourselves at some moment in life?
Losing is winning in an upside-down world,
like returning to my mother’s womb is a chance for rebirth.

Rediscovering the new and old assets of my soul,
allows me to look at the painting with a clearer mind,
while I pick up a brush to fill in the blanks,
with new vibrant colors I find in my reborn heart.

If losing myself forces me to be recreated,
by the One who created me in the first place,
then maybe trust is the only way to unlock my bolted heart,
to a new and brighter future I could ever dream of.

 

When the heart burns

When the heart burns

Every step I take,
my empty heart burns,
like a forest on fire.
Trying to rescue life,
in all its forms,
I make a decision,
to fight.

The sun on the horizon,
promises me hope,
but how can I believe,
in a new land,
when the old one,
is still burning?

Letting go of sorrow,
feels like the end,
of my very last breath,
overwhelming me with fear,
until I decide,
to breathe again.

Every step I take,
my empty heart burns,
so lay it on the ground,
to find life without it,
but how can I live,
without my heart?

Every season,
teaches us lessons,
but this season appears,
the hardest of them all,
so I have to believe,
that the lesson of this season,
will be the biggest one,
I have ever learned.

DSCN0641
Photograph made by: Gineke van Keulen!

 

Imagine

Imagine

When the lights go out,
the earth covers me in a blanket,
and the darkness closes in on me –
all seems lost in the moment.

But when the light touches the darkness,
in an embrace,
in a kind word,
a moment of true love,
it is not lost after all.

Growth begins in the darkness,
when a seed dies in the ground.
Then, when it comes into the light,
the harvest is unimaginable.

Imagine what we could overcome,
if we believed in the power of the light,
in the middle of the darkness.

Imagine

Movement

Movement

In the light of the morning,
I walk on the river shore.
The wind makes my hair dance,
liberating my heavy heart,
from all its burdens.
The light shimmering through the clouds,
caress my face with deep love,
until joy refills the empty spaces,
of my worried soul.
I want to run,
faster than the wind.
I want to fly,
on wings of love,
but I am parched from the endless drought.
This winter morning is a desert,
with burning sand and suffocating heat,
pushing me to search for an oasis.
The greatest battles are often the lonely ones,
where nobody can help you in your pain.
Where hail comes down like brimstone,
and thoughts like whiplashes on your back.
Unwanted feelings that drown you,
making you sink in seas of emotions.
Am I fighting against You?
Or am I fighting against myself?
I want to go back home,
crawl deep under the covers,
in an intense surge of self-pity.
So, I keep on walking,
as long as my feet can hold me,
until the river water has descended.
If liberation from grieve is in the movement,
than growth is closer than I imagined,
and joy is waiting right around the corner.

Movement

Cultural Differences

Cultural Differences

Differences in cultures confuse,
yet only through observation,
can we learn to see things,
from a new perspective.
So embrace the unknown,
kiss the familiarities,
read the scripts,
and learn the words.
Our understanding can only grow,
when we let go off what we know,
to open our hearts for the new.
Let our minds first meet,
before we let our tongue speak,
idle words that lack knowledge.
Hearts can only connect,
when we open our soul to each other.
Lives can only embrace,
when we open our arms in love.
I do not have to forget myself,
nor ignore the person that I am,
to embrace someone who is different.
Where love opens her heart,
she does not exclude anyone,
for in the eyes of love we are all the same.
Children of one Creator,
we are all loved by One,
who understands love,
embraces love,
and is love.
So let us be like our Creator,
let us be love,
not just to ourselves,
or the ones we know,
but to all.
Differences in cultures confuse,
but when we become love,
we can see Heaven in a broken world.

Cultural differences

 

 

Inside of us

Inside of us

Withered away,
I wait for life to grow again,
but the green stems break,
in my frightened hands.

The black shadows speak,
their toxic words in pink colors,
to hide the lies from my fragile heart,
until the truth vanishes out of sight.

Screams of pain fill the sky,
but a blue blanket represents the silence.
The louder I scream,
the greater is the silence.
So I have to become calm,
in order to find peace.

Memories engraved in stone,
are written on the walls of my heart.
Portrayed on parchment paper,
they are shaped into hundreds of poems.

Looking back at the past,
invites me to learn lessons,
to celebrate new hope,
illuminating my soul,
in millions of colors.

When Heaven remains silent,
lessons we have already learned,
become the indicators on our journey of life,
and growth appears inside of us.

Inside of us

Unconfined

Unconfined

Old words were written,
to teach me about myself,
in return I witness,
the child from my youth.

Imagination is used,
to face the truth,
in a world where angels,
are fairies with wings.

I carry a burden,
heavier than myself,
but in the water,
I am weightless.

My mind drifts away,
to unknown worlds,
where unknown places,
are ready to welcome me.

For years I have written,
everything I saw,
in countless words,
and endless sentences.

Today I see myself,
where my pink glasses,
are taken off –
reality is a burst bubble.

Yet unconfined,
my wings can finally fly,
and Your undying love,
is the only reality,
that is left within we.

Unconfined

 

 

Today I have grown

Today I have grown

The long halls look familiar,
like scenes from an old film,
where the tiles have never lost their color,
and floors still look exactly the same.

Doors open with new changes.
Through the unexpected conversations,
new lessons are born in hope,
where understanding has grown,
and knowledge is easier to control.

Blending in has never suited me,
I always stood out in the massive crowd.
A little grey mouse between a hundred swans,
they always passed me by in a haze,
where wonder asked me where they were going,
and understanding has failed to answer the question.

Today my life has grown,
into a magical bird of paradise,
shining her feathers among the swallows,
singing her song between the nightingales.

Today I have learned to stand tall,
between everything that is different,
embracing the uniqueness of myself,
between the extraordinary beauty,
of millions of others.

Today I have grown

 

 

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

 

The Giant Tree

The Giant Tree

The bare trees die,
to gain back life in the spring.
Bald in their battle to survive,
they take on a glorious splendor,
when the fruit touch the branches,
and blossoms paint the landscape,
in bright vibrant colors.

Deep in the ground,
roots are the essence of life.
an armor against the storm.
Further and deeper they dig,
until strength is not a question,
but the answer to life.

The Giant Tree,
in the middle of the garden,
the only survivor among its kind,
feeds and shelters wildlife.
Where Life gives life-
sharing His blossom-love,
the wisdom of His roots-
fruit will grow.

The small fragile roots,
intertwine in The Giant Tree’s,
growing in His shadow,
learning His wisdom.
There I grow into a tree,
to spread the blossom-love,
that He laid upon my branches.

Blossom-love spreads,
on a spring-day,
when the sun turns,
and the shadows,
are no longer a sanctuary,
but a revelation of light,
to bear fruit for the garden,
of The Giant Tree.
the giant tree