My old blue jeans

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!

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!

Funny Face

My smile hides secrets,
in the lights in my eyes –
a little inside joke.
A betrayal to the world,
when I know things,
that you also know,
but I do not say it,
yet I lift the veil,
in the funny faces,
only I can show.
It is all a joke,
or so you know,
when I am serious,
happily delirious,
unable to understand,
the way I am,
in the game we play,
in a teasing way,
where love is a stage.
Funny face,
yes, look at me,
it is my middle name,
the one you did not know,
or maybe you did,
when I thought,
I had hidden,
it all so well.
A little inside joke,
a game we play,
as the laughter,
bursts from the depths,
of my happy soul,
you know me so well,
I am your ultimate,
funny face –
an one-liner,
only we know!  

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Dancing in the rain

The rain has created pools of water,
for me to jump in with my yellow boots.
My red umbrella I hold high above my head,
as I move my feet through the mud,
jumping around as if I am making pirouettes.
The thick rain drops slowly land on my face,
as a smile curves my lips and erupts into laughter.
My heart is a child again if only for a minute,
growing younger by every passing second.
For that is what silliness does to the soul,
it turns around the aging process,
cleaning the mind of all negative thoughts,
as it begins to feel alive again –
a clean slate where all the dirt is washed away.
Born again like a butterfly from a cocoon,
is the metamorphosis that comes from laughter.
The laughter that springs from deep within the earth,
like a geyser that erupts his steam in full force.
If only we could let go of the adult inside of us,
forcing us to behave a different way than we feel,
only because this is asked of us in a cripple society.
I spread my arms as if I fly like the birds in the sky,
as I feel the wind brushing my hair in waves,
allowing me to feel free from all that is holding me,
all that is imprisoning my emotional state of mind.
To be a child again is a gift to the soul,
where we learn to let go of the adult inside,
to discover that it is not too late to feel alive.

Enlightenment

Poppies grow in an open meadow,
where my bare feet walk the high grass.
The soft wind brushes my hair,
and tickles my skin until I have goosebumps.
I sway my white dress on the sound,
of soft piano music playing in the background,
and I smile like the sun shining in the sky.
Happiness is a feeling of peace and light,
born deep in the heart in the middle of spring.
Choices cause us to grow like wildflowers –
like poppies they drench us in our own blood,
until we shine brighter than the great eastern sun.
I choose to be happy in this moment,
where the summer smiles at me,
in the silence of complete solitude.
I find a place under a tree on the hill,
where I sit down and meditate,
so I can hold onto to this moment a little longer.
My hands are open ready to receive,
the greatest blessing Heaven can give me,
but in this moment of patient waiting,
I learn to close my eyes and feel the Spirit,
whispering softly in the summer winds.
As I gently flutter my eye-lids open,
the red poppies smile at me,
as they fill me with the deepest peace.
Letting go of the past and the future,
forces me to live in the moment of this day,
where I learn to dance in the rain,
with my arms and my heart wide open,
until every cell is filled the deepest sense of joy.
And in this moment of pure enlightenment,
I learn that the cross is never heavier,
than my own heart can bare,
and that my heart is so much stronger,
than I could ever imagine!

The Birdcage

The Birdcage

An empty birdcage made of gold,
fills an empty space in a luxurious house.
Velvet sofas of red and green,
create an old fashioned yet classic décor,
where pearls would roll across the floor,
in an overflow of wealth.
The silent emptiness is overwhelming,
and a sadness roams the halls,
in a search for that one missing thing.
Echoes cry in the darkness,
on the ever-present cry of the wind.
Love cannot be bought,
or found in the materialistic items we own.
Only when a house is filled with people,
can we truly life our wildest dreams.
Life was not meant to live alone,
why then do we focus on those things,
that can never bring us joy?
A heart needs a heart to live in,
otherwise it withers away and dies.
An empty birdcage made of gold,
is forcing me to open a window,
where nature is calling the heart,
to spread her wings and fly away,
to that one heart she needs,
to feel alive once again.

Unchained

Unchained,
you are free.
Able to spread your wings,
to fly away on the wind.
Away from me –
from who I am,
and who I used to be.

You are able,
to choose for me,
or against me.
You are free
to be,
who you were always meant to be.

I set you free,
like a bird from a cage,
because I love you,
and for love,
to be real pure love,
it has to be free.

Love is not chained,
nor forced or caged.
In the end,
love is free.

So now,
I am unchained,
I am,
finally free.

Self – Care

Self – Care

As my hand strikes across my skin,
the oil pours into my soul,
as a well needed refreshment.
I can feel my skin breathe again,
pulling my depressive mind,
out of the thick black fog,
it has resided in for so long.

Sometimes we need to look,
at the person deep inside of us,
ask her what she needs to live,
to feel loved and cared for.
We need to embrace who we are,
and what we look like,
instead of punishing the beauty,
that we so evidently cannot see.

Look in the mirror and witness,
the beauty you already possess.
Instead of looking at your imperfections,
teach yourself to look at the assets of yourself,
that define your inner soul,
and make your whole being shine,
like the look in your eyes or a smile.

When we look at our own beauty,
we appreciate what we have been given,
allowing us to live a more positive life.
Self-care is the love we give to ourselves,
to rejuvenate us, embrace us,
and value the beautiful souls we are.

Self-care is the most precious gift,
we can ever give to ourselves,
and to the One who created us.
So, whenever you feel unloved,
begin to love yourself,
and your mind and soul will heal itself.

 

 

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

 

Riding the waves

Riding the waves

The waves rise and fall,
washing ashore the white foam,
creating rainbows in the sky.

The load beatings of the waves,
hitting the unmovable rocks,
numb my ears until their deaf.

Today is the perfect day,
to ride the stormy waves,
on the bluest ocean I have ever seen.

My hands become one with the water,
moving me from place to place,
until there is absolutely no escape.

An adrenaline rush,
is your heart exploding with pure joy,
as your stomach somersaults with delight.

With my board steady underneath my feet,
I move the water and the water moves me,
until I am in an endless tunnel.

Today is the perfect day,
to ride the stormy waves,
on the bluest ocean I have ever seen.

Riding the waves