My lips are painful and dry, as if I have been walking, through the desert for weeks. Now I am longing for streams of water, surrounding my body and soul. For the wind to lift me up, and give me wings like angels, so I can rise above myself – to see myself from a new perspective, if only these glasses were helping me! I spend my days in meditation, where a continuous flow of words, makes her way from my heart to yours. Gratitude is what I always learned, but now I am longing for more, because I feel that I am ready, to open my heart and fly, out of this desert into the promised land, I am ready to soar!
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 blurred window shows, only a glimpse of what is seen, behind the front door of my house. Colors of blue and green alternate, releasing a spiritual sensation, in the quiet corners of my heart. I want to approach it, feel the texture of the uneven glass, as if my hand can reach through it. I want to open the door, run outside on my bare feet, to feel the soft grass tickle my toes. But something stops me. Something holds my feet, and all I can do is press my forehead, gently against the cold glass. Hesitation is the essence of doubt, which is the beginning of fear. I have to choose. The choice of trust leads me, on the greatest adventures. The choice of fear leads me, to an impasse in my life. Even when my hands tremble, or when my heart is filled with doubt, I open the door with the blurred window – A symbolism of the future. Because sometimes our future, is like opening a door with a blurred window. All you can see is the outlines and colors, the essence of what it has to be, but you cannot see the full picture. All you can do is trust. Trust the outcome. Trust your own ability, your own beautiful self. All you can do is take the first step, knowing that fear is the lie, we tell when we doubt ourselves. To take a step is to make a choice. To make a choice is asking yourself, this one single question, do I really trust myself?
Sunbeams warm my face, music softly colors the background, and rich scents of food swirl around me.
My heart is at ease, even though the fire is still burning, destroying everything on her path, just a stones throw away from me.
Somehow I decided to shift my focus, by turning my head away from the horizon. Life is here to enjoy and celebrate, so, instead of focusing on what I cannot change, I allow my heart to breathe.
The wind plays with my hair. And as a new energy caresses my skin, I feel an energy of growth, mixing herself with an energy of determination, creating a whole new beat, teaching me to sing about letting go, while still holding on to the rhythm of purpose.
Summer festivities are a great distraction, to celebrate this new beginning with love. And as new friendships suddenly embrace me, I realize that love generally finds you, when you learn to lose control, over the past and the future, to live in the present with joy!
Eyes only see,
the things they want to see.
Dead and desolate places,
alternate with magical kingdoms,
where angels and butterflies,
fly through colorful mists.
Perception is the essence,
for our identity to be,
the purest form of the self.
For hiding behind a mask,
will give only a temporary relief,
of not being seen.
Visibility is the key,
to the door of fulfillment,
but only when you block,
the murmur of judgmental voices,
and stay true,
to the truest form of yourself.
Eyes only see,
the things they want to see.
And in the sight of selflove,
and childlike positivity,
can we lift ourselves to infinite heights,
where we are more,
than we could ever think of,
and take our life,
further than it could ever be.
As the fallen snow turns into ice, the freezing cold blows me away, forcing an ice-age into the summer, where icicles melt in the desert heat, and water is a burden instead of a relief.
My eyes hurt with burning pains, the tears have turned into dry salt, while fire burns my skin to the bone. I’m blaming the snow-storm in the desert, for its lack of interest in the growing pains. Selfishness is always the beginning of nothing, but when I search for something, selfishness comes knocking at my door.
My life has never been my own, no matter how I wrestled with the universe, it never chose my side in the storm. Now I’m fighting thin air on the steep slope, beating me into the thick trees on the road.
As I lay down in the snow and pray, the daisies cheer me up with their mandolin music, and the sun warms my face with peace, until Love breaks the centre of my soul, and thick teardrops work its way down, for the broken dreams I never wanted to give up.
Bring back my broken dreams, and plant them in the ground, to grow them into rose bushes. So my dreams will never get lost in the snow, and my teardrops are not a waste in the universe. Give them a place in Your paradise, so Your children can find their way home.
In the middle of the forest, pictures show me many sights, to unfold a labyrinth in my mind. With the key in my hands I walk, until the soles of my shoes are worn out. Deeper and deeper into the tangled mess, my breath quickens and my heart races. If the Light is still in sight, why then does this road lead me here? Further into the forest, where darkness surrounds me, I am tricked by my own imagination. Learning to see the Light in the darkness, I first have to separate the darkness from the Light. Panic is the inability to connect with your soul, and I haven’t connected with mine for years. Still Your voice asks me to walk on, and I walk until the road ends. There on the intersection of life, when all control has been taken out of my hands, You ask me to let go in trust. On my knees I plead for mercy, until I have nothing more to say, and I collapse on the cold cobblestones. With the rain washing the last black stains away, butterflies start to flutter out of my hair, onto the roses that grow in my hands, Sometimes in order to gain life, you have to give it up. In the silence the cold nights slowly heat up again, until a small fire resurfaces in my fragile heart. Doors can only be opened, when we give the key to the One who owns life. Ways can only be paved, by the One who created them in the first place. As the sky clears and the forest fades, the smile on Your face hands me my victory, for all I had to do to succeed, is to let go of the control within me.
Love shows directions, but my feet weakly stumble. The bird shows the way, if only I would follow him. Light shows the path, but my eyes are searching for another. At the crossroad of life, I wonder when I lost my way, and ignoring the signals, my soul loses its destination.
Love shows directions, in the lost signals. The bird waits for its time. The light waits for its cue.
When I least expect it, wings of light touch me, pushing me in the right direction. When I least expect it, Your light opens my eyes, to see the signs in front of me. When I least expect it, You plant a seed deep in my heart, growing me in Your light.
Directions are found, in the signs of love, where it guides you, with gentle force.