Wrapped in blue linen

I express my soul,
by wearing the night,
around my naked body,
to show the stars,
sparkling deep inside me,
like the intens joy,
you can find in my eyes,
a portal to a dimension,
not many dare to take,
but only a few know,
bring you straight,
to the gates of heaven.
Wrapped in blue linen,
comfort carries me,
expresses how I feel,
how the moment,
carries me to a place,
of happy memories,
where I feel safe,
and where love,
is so gentle and soft,
like the linen wrapped,
around my body,
as if roses embrace me,
on a bed made of clouds,
I am wrapped in blue linen,
like the little girl,
I used to be.

Ducklings in a pond

Birds fly overhead -
ducklings in a pond,
I learn to see the sky,
through the eyes of the universe.
Stars sparkle in the distance,
the sun shines inside,
my own drunk heart,
it is love that rules my mind.
My feet in shallow water,
my soul learns to walk,
on the reflection of the surface,
just like white swans.
The brushstroke of a wing,
as soft as cotton clouds,
why do crickets jump,
inside my own heart?
The wings that fly,
find the end of the road,
at the bus stop of rout sixty six -
only the lonely return home.
But the bird without wings,
evolves the given time,
in creativity, and perseverance -
alone is never alone.
Ducklings in a pond,
the years have made me young,
I cry a million tears,
until my home is in the stars.

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!

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!

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!

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.  

Overwhelmed

Shades of crimson red –
I stretch out my hand,
to be covered in blood.
Hues of gold intertwine,
with the branches of the vine,
where grapes spill juice,
that lands like dew on my face.
My moist lips taste like honey,
surprising me,
with the many sensations,
my mind has to process.
My arms embrace myself,
to give warmth to my heart,
confused with the aromas,
tickling my nostrils.
Dizzying is the information,
I receive in this short,
but powerful moment in time.
My eyes are unable to focus,
on the essential elements,
trying to seek my attention.
So, I close my eyes,
empty my mind,
and shut my ears,
to become one with silence,
where I hear you speak,
in the soft whisper,
in the silent breeze.
In order to find my way,
I must learn to trust,
that the right way,
will eventually,
find me!

To Love Myself Whole

The cold touches my bones,
until my body knows how to keep herself warm.
My naked body breathes the thin air,
of the top of the Mount Everest in the summer,
making me smile in this intimate moment.

To dance in the rain and lightning,
is finding the courage to love yourself whole.
Like a flower I bloom in the sunlight,
only to grow when the rain showers the swamp,
until the flood covers the entire earth of my soul.

The hair on my skin rises and falls,
on the soft breeze flowing from your mouth,
like soft kisses during our love making.
Released is the wild horse from her prison,
running across the meadows of her youth.

Love in the purest form never asks,
but only embraces what is there in this moment,
waiting to be caressed by the soft touch,
of the only soul who know how to love me well –
In this moment of self-awareness, I learn to love myself!

The photos and poetry on this site belong to me: Gineke van Keulen.
Please ask first if you want to use them or share them, or give me credit!
Thank you!

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.