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.
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 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!
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!
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!