The First Spring

The torn womb bleeds,
the deepest color red,
as broken dreams scatter,
across an endless waterfall,
where my tears,
are salty on my cheek.

The leaves fall down,
onto the damp ground,
where a swamp,
is growing grey and old.
Twigs breaks on the wind,
that is howling,
like a sad and lonely wolf.

Desolate places scream,
for endless rains of mercy,
but deaf ears cannot see,
this crystal clear reality,
that the winter will not end,
until the beginning,
of the first spring.

Fleeting hope breaks,
the fragile heart in two,
but when the soul,
is willing to fall in love,
hope arises like an eagle,
on the wings of a swan,
and burns like a golden torch,
for all eternity.

Healing Heart

After I saw a video on the BBC about the situation in India, I wrote this poem. It is the grief in my own heart that I have felt since my mother passed away, almost three years ago, of cancer, combined with the grief I saw in that video and the grief that I know exists all around the world. Losing someone is so painful, undescribable in words, but please know that rays of hope glimmer at the horizon! xox Gineke

Healing Heart

My heart contracts in pain,
as tear drops trickle down the veins,
forcing primal cries from the depths,
of my shattered soul staring at me,
in the broken mirror reflections on the floor.

My hands lifted you up in love,
carried you around a desolated city,
searching for one heart willing to help,
but the silence has fired back at me,
like a thousand knives stabbing me,
in a defenseless attack I cannot win!

I am holding your picture in my hands,
unable to understand how this happened,
yet fully aware that death can come knocking,
at my own front door at any time,
so I close the door and wonder why,
the future has abandoned us this time?

As the sun comes up in the east,
the first rays of hope move across the land,
like little drops of gold being spread,
and I cannot wait for the sun in the sky,
bringing a rainbow into my hands,
where memory and hope can blend,
in a healing heart that will one day learn,
how to give her love once again.

Nail it on that cross!

A flower growing between the cold stone rocks –
in temperatures that reach far below zero,
and where even the animals do not choose to live,
still survives on the strength within,
that searches for life in the midst of an expected death,
that is who I really am!

It is not the hope or the love that forces me to go on,
but the ever-present reluctancy to give up.
A faith that lives deep inside of me,
tells me everyday that there has got to be more.
More than this endless suffering,
more than this heart-wrenching pain,
that forces my pillow to catch my tears in the night,
and my soul to hide them during the day.

A Force that is bigger than all of this –
bigger than our entire universe,
is what the last piece of my heart holds onto.
All I hope for is that this Force,
takes my pain and nails it on that cross,
where it can die along with my tears,
to restore the hope,
born from love,
that establishes a fountain of joy,
within every corner of my heart!

In my disbelief

In my disbelief

When the land is in sight,
after an endless journey,
my heart fills with joy,
until I remember,
that the last steps,
are usually the hardest.
With the sweat on my brow,
I cry silent tears,
in my hopeless heart.
Is it a fata morgana?
An illusion in my mind?
In the extreme exhaustion,
my heart becomes confused,
wondering whether I had it right.
Was this the land,
the land that God asked me to go to?
Or was I mistaken,
wrong about everything I thought,
God spoke to me in dreams?
I pray,
first silently,
then louder and louder,
until my heart screams,
“Why have you forsaken me”?
The inches I walk become slower,
until I stand still in awe of myself,
my misunderstanding,
my hopes and dreams in something,
that might never be.
So, now I am at a crossroad.
Wondering whether to continue,
this extreme endurance,
or whether to go back,
to the life I knew before.
I do not know…
So, I wait for the silent whisper,
gently encouraging me,
to put my one foot,
in front of the other,
in blind courage,
in blind faith,
of an invisible God,
a promise I cannot see,
a situation that seems,
impossible.
Faith is like a mustard seed,
that fell into the ground,
and died.
As my heart is slowly dying,
I know a tree will spring up,
in the depth of my heart,
with strong roots,
able to conquer any storm.
Looking around this endless desert,
I still see the small houses,
shimmering at the horizon,
and no matter how impossible it may seem,
I know,
all I have to do is believe,
that those houses,
no matter how unreal they seem,
are put there for me.
Victory comes to those,
who choose to go on,
when everything inside,
tells them to give up!
So, I choose victory,
in whatever form it comes,
so that one day I can tell,
a world of disbelief,
that the Spirit kept me going,
when I could not belief.
To God be the glory,
for He was with me!

The dance of the starlings

The dance of  the starlings

As the content of my soul,
is spilled on the white marble floor,
the history of nature forces me,
to let her guide me along the way.  
Through the raindrops I fall down.
Through the fog I rise again,
but the sun remains behind the clouds,
until time is ready to show her off again.
Rainbows bring hope and promises,
of new beginnings and better times,
where the grass is finally greener,
on my side of the meadows,
and where birds joyfully fly.
Life has an art of falling and rising,
like the dance of starlings in the sky,
where one never knows the next step,
but the heart always follows the rhythm of the music,
the soul plays at that particular time.
As my arms spread and my hands open,
I catch the first raindrops of the season,
bringing the joy of my heart to the surface.
However dark the seasons are,
the knowledge of what is ahead,
softens the cracks in my broken heart,
teaching me that the negative will never last.
So, even when I do not know the future,
or what my next step on this road will be,
love is teaching me that greatest endurance,
is learning to dance in the pouring rain,
for the future that is already in sight.

New Rays of Hope

New Rays of Hope

Trees dance in the rain,
as a sparrow shakes his feathers dry,
on the soft sound of the piano keys.

The hot steaming liquid in my mug,
reminds me of the fireplace at home,
but the beach is to inviting to leave now.

Storms on the shore take my tears,
and send them along with the wind,
in bittersweet love letters to far away places.

Small towns are like warms blankets,
keeping the cold out of the weary heart,
where it begs for love to find her.

As an artistic flow of creativity touches me,
I can only take what I have left in my hands,
for it to find a way to come surging out.

With a pencil in hand I sketch the night away,
for the morning to arrive in words and pictures,
that align with the Divine connection with my soul.

For a short moment longer the sea rages on,
and I witness the dark clouds disappear in the distance,
only for the rainbow to whisper the new rays of hope.

New rays of hope

 

A Changed Perspective

A Changed Perspective

Hollow caves cannot provide light in the darkness,
so I am looking for a way to decorate the cave.
Standing in the middle of this empty space,
details of consequences are suddenly exposed.
Years of erosion has chipped away the walls,
and the ones so smooth surface is now ragged.
The interpretation of the current circumstances,
allow me to take a closer look at the scars,
inviting me to change my perspective.
For the first I notice the organized changes,
so beautifully revealed in the design.
The black rock has made place for diamonds,
illuminating the dark cave as if it were never night,
and the water dripping down from the cave icicles,
turn into a harmoniously orchestrated melody,
that has the power to calm every living being.
The erosion that once caused so much pain,
has slowly changed hopelessness into a love song,
providing a light in this seemingly dark cave.
If the changes have created this much illumination,
then maybe the future has a silver lining filled with hope.
Frozen in time we are allowed to see what is really there,
to change our perspective on ourselves and others,
so our hope will become the change we are looking for,
and our change will become the hope for a new generation!

 

 

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!

 

At the doorstep of spring

At the doorstep of spring

At the doorstep of spring,
the first jasmine petals open up,
releasing their sweet aroma,
until my heart leaps with joy.

This is what I was waiting for,
the unexplainable joy in my heart,
lifting my soul from the darkness,
into a world filled with light.

More and more I am learning,
to find the sweet aroma’s inside myself,
that I can turn into scented candles,
as a gift for the people entering my life.

No matter the problem,
no matter the outcome,
I am entering a season of spring,
where love surrounds me with peace.

Hope is the season of love,
where I learn how to trust,
in a light bigger than the darkness,
and in a love bigger than this world.

At the doorstep of spring

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