Forever Changed

Posted on 28 February 2023 by Gineke van Keulen

Ever-changing,
her soul moves on the wind,
in the directions she is,
guided to go.
On wings,
bigger than her own.
Like clay,
molded,
into something new.
An ongoing motion,
where life shapes her,
chisels her like a statue,
and breathes new life,
into every cell of her body.
More and more,
she is alive,
thriving,
on the breath of God,
where she finds love.
Ever-changing,
life has changed her,
but in the hands,
of the brilliant sculptor,
her soul grows,
in a better version of herself.
Every single day –
I am forever changed!

Written by Gineke van Keulen. Ask before using any of the work displayed on this page! Thank you!

Ducklings in a pond

Posted on 14 August 2022 by Gineke van Keulen

Birds fly overhead -
ducklings in a pond,
I learn to see the sky,
through the eyes of the universe.

Stars sparkle in the distance,
the sun shines inside,
my own drunk heart,
it is love that rules my mind.

My feet in shallow water,
my soul learns to walk,
on the reflection of the surface,
just like white swans.

The brushstroke of a wing,
as soft as cotton clouds,
why do crickets jump,
inside my own heart?

The wings that fly,
find the end of the road,
at the bus stop of rout sixty six - 
only the lonely return home.

But the bird without wings,
evolves the given time,
in creativity, and perseverance - 
alone is never alone.

Ducklings in a pond,
the years have made me young,
I cry a million tears,
until my home is in the stars.

Fallen petals grow!

Posted on 6 June 2022 by Gineke van Keulen

Pink rose buds

covered in raindrops

like diamonds

dressing a woman.

Her bare skin exposed

against the elements

of the current season

waiting for the light

to make her bloom.

She dances on the wind

with her pink dress

swirling on the melodies

of angels singing.

Until one by one

her petals fall

into the hands of God

where love nourishes

them back to life

and growth starts

all over again!

The Peacock and the Stars

Posted on 25 April 2022 by Gineke van Keulen

Blue and green feathers sparkle,
like silver or gold in the sun.
The delicacy of a young bird,
conceals the strength of bones,
that bend like moist twigs.

Black eyes stare at me.
I disappear into their abyss,
where the universe is recreated,
in the rebirth of stars and planets.
My wings carry me further than that,
and I inhale the sweet scent of love,
burning like fire in my heart.

Unbreakable in my fragility,
strength is always an illusion,
that bends in the stormy winds,
and breaks on sweet summer days –
the unpredictability of life,
is like tiny star explosions,
always leading to something new.

Merging together,
from two different worlds,
the peacock has to lose her feathers,
and the stars will have to forget,
their ability to break in silence.

It reminds me of growth

Posted on 6 April 2022 by Gineke van Keulen

The scent of earth,
reminds me of growth.
Of breaking,
turning,
sweat on my brow.
Of digging,
of holes,
that need to be filled.
Of seeds,
and of life.
It reminds me,
of water,
now and again,
every other day,
or once a week.
Of pulling,
of weeds,
of earth,
underneath my nails.
It reminds me,
of waiting,
of time,
of patience,
and then,
the reward,
of all your hard work.
Of new life,
of birth,
of little by little,
every day a little more,
until all there is left,
is to bloom!

The Dragon

Posted on 10 March 2022 by Gineke van Keulen

The anger that resides,
in the depths of my soul,
is like a sleeping dragon,
waiting to come out,
of his peaceful hibernation.
I have learned to tip-toe,
around the branches,
of my own youth,
where demons are still,
whispering lies,
in the shadows of the forest,
that seems so hollow,
compared to summer meadows,
where I forced my heart to grow.
The fear of the unknown,
of the dragon waking up,
keeps me on the watchtower,
looking across borders,
where the real enemy,
never resides.
The dragon always hides,
in the heart of the soul,
that needs to discover,
the strength within.
I am a warrior,
fighting against myself,
and all I have to do,
to slay the dragon,
is to find the heart,
of my own soul,
inside myself!

My old blue jeans

Posted on 7 March 2022 by Gineke van Keulen

Under a blue sky,
a bird rises,
to fly away,
to the end of the earth,
where she finds,
the sun shining,
underneath the feathers,
of her own black wings.

And here I walk,
with you,
in the pocket,
of my old blue jeans,
that have faded,
in the broken parts,
of yesterday.

Can I bring,
the sun back,
to that little corner,
of my place on earth?
Or do I fly away,
like that bird,
to somewhere,
where my old blue jeans,
can’t rupture?

Now I stand,
in my old blue jeans,
in the middle,
of a busy road,
where each car,
passes me by,
with the same question,
as I!

With the stains on my dress!

Posted on 24 February 2022 by Gineke van Keulen

A fog covers the moors,
I can barely see the raven,
fly across the land.
The first sunbeams cover,
the dew covered earth,
and I look down at my bare feet.
Purple heather slowly opens,
millions of petals in my eyes,
and my soul comes back to life.
I feel like a child again,
with the deep desire to dance,
in the warmth of the sun,
that illuminates my heart.
Hope is a bird that flies,
off to the horizon,
into the light that shines,
in the distance.
The earth covers my feet,
making it heart to keep,
my white dress clean,
yet in this moment,
of morning glory,
I realize the essence,
of pure, heartfelt joy.
The stains on my heart,
are not the end of my soul,
but only the beginning,
of more and more joy!

Midwinter

Posted on 4 January 2022 by Gineke van Keulen

A rose blooms in the snow,
gently caressed by the sun,
who softly strikes the petals with her fingers.
Below ground life prepares itself,
for new changes in the spring,
as the acorns are looking for their owners.
I cry like an eagle across the Grand Canyon,
searching for water between the deep cliffs,
but the light feeds me from the inside.
My wings dance in the sky,
where my feet make pirouettes on thin ice.
Faith is believing in the greatest outcome,
like a rose blooming in midwinter!

All poetry posted on this page is mine! Please ask before using!
Thank you!

The Art of True Living

Posted on 10 November 2021 by Gineke van Keulen

The withered flowers,
can only arise from their ashes,
when I can give them back,
to the dark earth.
So, I burry them,
deep within the soil,
for them to rediscover,
the art of true living.

Born from the ashes,
the red rose blooms in the summer,
and from the thorns,
I bleed the same color red.

Gineke van Keulen

Creative writer – always searching for light, joy, and understanding!

Tag Archives: growth