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 peace of this night

The wind rushes through the trees,
like an orchestra playing three nocturnes,
creating the perfect setting for fireflies,
to dance to this sweet melody of Chopin.
The stars find their places in the dark sky,
and I wait for Orion’s belt to appear,
so I can see him shoot his arrow.
Nothing is more peaceful than the night,
where silence is a warm blanket,
where you can meditate on the essence of life.
My rocking chair calmly swings back and forth,
as I play non-existent notes on my guitar,
giving my thoughts a way to escape my mind,
and slip into the oblivion of this peaceful night.
God speaks when the world is silent,
so I listen to the voice of Spirit who speaks,
on the whisper of the cool midnight wind.
If I would close one of my eyes and sleep,
I would miss all the wonderful things,
nature has in store for me,
so I try to stay awake and listen carefully.
All I can hear is the sweet sound of love,
penetrating my flesh, taking over my soul,
bringing me the peace, I have been looking for.
It is her desire to bring me joy in the morning,
so I thank the night for Chopin and his music,
for Orion’s belt and his arrows coloring the sky,
and the gift of love I found in this peaceful moment.
As the dawn arrives in her colorful glory,
I pray that the peace of this night will remain,
during every minute of this brand new day!

Ocean Life

Ocean Life

Her heart is like an ocean without life,
a deep black pool of nothing,
who hungers for a coral reef,
for turtles and fish in her sea.
She hungers for surfers and swimmers,
for boats sailing on her surface.
She hungers for birds in the sky,
that hunt for flying fish,
jumping out of her water.
She hungers for someone,
to touch her skin until he sinks in,
deep into the her essence.
She longs for understanding,
the problems that she brings,
because so many ruined her waters,
that she, herself, does not know,
how she really has to swim,
inside her own water reflection.
She longs for someone,
who will take the time,
to dive deep inside of her,
exploring ever corner of,
her deep sea levels and coral reefs,
researching the way to take care of her,
when she can no longer do it herself.
She longs for children,
playing at the shore,
dipping their little feet,
in her shallow waters,
until they learn how to swim,
and they embrace her,
with joy and laughter.
Her heart longs for life,
in that deep black pool of nothing,
that never seems to end.
And until then she dreams,
of a life she has never seen,
that is waiting for her,
beyond the horizon.

The white tiger

Regal and Majestic,
the white tiger roams the jungle,
looking for that one thing he needs.
Unable to accept the patience,
he so desperately needs,
he allows the green leaves,
to scratch his coat,
leaving a trail of cotton wool behind.
His impatience forces him,
to make mistakes,
he otherwise would not make.
The only way to his destination,
is by waiting in the shadows,
for that one prey,
and that one opportunity.
White tigers are hunters,
who know what they do,
but just like the white tiger,
we can fail to camouflage ourselves,
in the shadows of the jungle,
and miss our most important meal of the day!
But when we learn,
to lay low in the bushes,
of this jungle of life,
in complete patience and focus,
we will reach our target,
faster than we could ever imagine.

Patience is a virtue,
not easily learned,
but too important,
to miss out on.

Roots

Roots

Roots dig deep,
at the rivershore,
laying a firm foundation,
for the old cottage.
The water rises,
the wind blows through the trees,
bowing and breaking the branches,
but the roots do not give in.
As the sun sets behind the horizon,
the country roads become dark,
and the foxes come out of their holes to play,
still the roots protect the house,
for whatever is built on love,
will never fall,
and whoever relies,
on this firm foundation,
will find goodness,
for the rest of his life.

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

 

In a black and white world

In a black and white world

The sky is grey and gloomy,
the earth is covered in black and white,
and nature has never been this mystical.

Arches form doors to different realms,
as mountains enclose the waters.
I follow the river to the end of the horizon,
in order to find the end of my dream.

Heavy burdens way me down,
but my wings are still strong enough,
to keep me floating above the clear water.

Angels guide me along my journey,
and the Spirit leads me along the way.
All I must do is follow His guidance,
with a trust greater than the doubts in my heart.

Now I know that life is not about the dream,
but about learning to keep yourself floating,
in world that is too often black and white.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Movement

Movement

In the light of the morning,
I walk on the river shore.
The wind makes my hair dance,
liberating my heavy heart,
from all its burdens.
The light shimmering through the clouds,
caress my face with deep love,
until joy refills the empty spaces,
of my worried soul.
I want to run,
faster than the wind.
I want to fly,
on wings of love,
but I am parched from the endless drought.
This winter morning is a desert,
with burning sand and suffocating heat,
pushing me to search for an oasis.
The greatest battles are often the lonely ones,
where nobody can help you in your pain.
Where hail comes down like brimstone,
and thoughts like whiplashes on your back.
Unwanted feelings that drown you,
making you sink in seas of emotions.
Am I fighting against You?
Or am I fighting against myself?
I want to go back home,
crawl deep under the covers,
in an intense surge of self-pity.
So, I keep on walking,
as long as my feet can hold me,
until the river water has descended.
If liberation from grieve is in the movement,
than growth is closer than I imagined,
and joy is waiting right around the corner.

Movement

When the rosebuds came in bloom

When the rosebuds came in bloom

In an instant,
life disappears.
In flight,
it returns to me.

Searching for rosebuds,
I hold a white pearl in my hand,
but all I find is the bees nectar.
How many magnifiers will bring me back?

The spring is softer,
than the autumn storm.
In each drop,
I see a divine reflection,
while human lives,
haunt me in my dreams.

 If acceptation is a short road,
why then have I run for miles?
If I could escape my biggest nightmare,
I could catch the bubbles in the sea.

My road has been too long,
I can feel the angels watching me,
and a million wings strike across my face.

Then at the hand of the Father,
I notice,
that the white pearl in my hand,
has gently changed me,
when the rosebuds came in bloom.

when the rosebuds came in bloom

 

The Giant Tree

The Giant Tree

The bare trees die,
to gain back life in the spring.
Bald in their battle to survive,
they take on a glorious splendor,
when the fruit touch the branches,
and blossoms paint the landscape,
in bright vibrant colors.

Deep in the ground,
roots are the essence of life.
an armor against the storm.
Further and deeper they dig,
until strength is not a question,
but the answer to life.

The Giant Tree,
in the middle of the garden,
the only survivor among its kind,
feeds and shelters wildlife.
Where Life gives life-
sharing His blossom-love,
the wisdom of His roots-
fruit will grow.

The small fragile roots,
intertwine in The Giant Tree’s,
growing in His shadow,
learning His wisdom.
There I grow into a tree,
to spread the blossom-love,
that He laid upon my branches.

Blossom-love spreads,
on a spring-day,
when the sun turns,
and the shadows,
are no longer a sanctuary,
but a revelation of light,
to bear fruit for the garden,
of The Giant Tree.
the giant tree