Forever Changed

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!

The Balancing Act

Calm and chaos,

yin and yang,

darkness and light,

the scale balances,

with the weights,

always on the good side.

An attempt is made,

to bring peace,

to create harmony in our life.

Forever balancing,

on a tight rope,

until we fall,

or until the rope breaks.

Tears fall in laughter,

laughter echoes its tears –

we live in complete oblivion,

to how we really feel.

Still we balance the scale,

either left or right,

and uncontrollable in our power,

we try to control the outcome,

in our short, and precious time.

Calm and chaos,

yin and yang,

darkness and light,

the question is,

do we choose to follow darkness?

Or do we choose to follow light?

The Song of my Spirit

The voice of my spirit,

carries across the hills,

until a white dove,

brings a fresh branche,

back to me.

Life begins with a call –

a breath in our lungs,

and a song in our hearts,

that changes Mozart’s music,

into Celtic melodies.

Ever-changing,

our footsteps mark the grass,

on the green Scottish hills,

where the sun sets before me,

and I am released to the stars.

But that strong call of my spirit,

will carry me through the ages,

for in the light of God,

the song of my spirit,

Will never stop singing!

Homebody

Where I lay my focus,

my heart makes a home,

to create,

either peace,

or absolute chaos,

and my world,

becomes like a solar system,

where everything turns,

like the planets,

around one sun,

forgetting that even a Milky Way,

is part of something,

greater than herself!

So, if I want to make a home,

in a place that lasts forever,

I have to lay my focus,

on something greater than myself,

where humility will teach me,

that when I am not in control,

the greatest peace will find me,

right in my own home!

Fallen petals grow!

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

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

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!

Hangover

Boats sail along the shore,

waiting for horizons,

to allow the sun to set.

Seagull screams break,

the ever-present silence,

and I wake up,

to the rain,

tapping against the window.

Red wine spilled,

on spotless white sheets,

conceal cake crumbs,

and empty tea cups in my bed.

The clock strikes twelve!

I find my shoes at the door,

but my heart still waits,

in the bed I slept in,

with you!

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!

Bouldering

I carry rocks,
like a body builder,
showing off strength,
but in the shadows,
where the lens,
cannot see me,
I climb them,
instead.
Bouldering,
rock after rock,
until the muscles,
of my fragile heart,
have grown strong.
I keep on climbing,
knowing that,
the great Chinese wall,
was not build,
in one single day.
My soul alike,
cannot be build,
in a moment.
Strength takes time,
and as the clock ticks,
I concentrate,
merely on the next,
positions of my hands,
so my feet can follow,
where the rope leads,
to the top,
of my ability.