Poetry & Painting

Poetry is like painting with words
It's best
With a lot of open space
Within between above behind and around.

I like to dream
In the spaces between
I like to breathe
In the freedom of open space
I like to soar above
In limitlessness of the unspoken
I like to move behind and around
In feeling at home within. space.

Painting at it's best
Is done by a poet with brushes
With a lot of open space
Within between above behind and around.

Waiting

Another meadow… another piece of paradise
Imagine you will fly… floating on the evening sun’s last ray
While the grass angel ’s asleep… and only one cicada sings
The trees are waiting… waiting… waiting…

Another evening… another day has parted
Imagine you will hold… the best of all its promises today
While the grass angel ’s asleep… and only one cicada sings
The dreams are waiting… waiting… waiting…

Evenings

Why do some evenings have a different smell?
The last cloud seemed to leap away like a winged horse.
No leave that moved, no bird that sang -
Did nature hold her breath?

Why do some evenings have a different taste?
I felt my teeth bite my lips -
As if I didn’t want to swallow yet another night.
Are some dreams not worth dreaming?

Why do some evenings have a different silence?
It was a time my thoughts stood still -
What could the answer to this waiting be?
Are some questions never to be asked?

Winter Nightscape

Moonlight’s reflections
Are catching my eye
On countless blinking crystals of snow
Frozen songs of dreaming cicadas…

The land, the dormant lake
All visible in silvery white
Trees, serene and somber
Standing darker than their shadows…
 
I feel the ghosts of the cold
Conversing with the spirits of the land
Fourfold around the house...

In the morning we’ll find
Their agreements written down on our windows,
Mysterious calligraphy.

Then

When I sit and I sigh
And the silence shouts,
When I look inside
And I don’t find my heart,
Then I need to see myself walking the tightrope...

When the shadows dance
And the stones cry,
When I look inside
And I don’t find my heart,
Then I need to see myself walking the tightrope...

My tightrope up high

My tightrope up high...
Is the place where I sit when I cry
Where I hug clouds and pick stars,
Where I can breathe when I sigh,
Where I can walk between times,
Where I am dead but I’m alive.

My tightrope up high...
Is the place where my dream boats land,
Where I got lost and got found,
Where the secrets pass by,
Where our shadows are dancing,
Where my angels are talking to your angels.

My tightrope up high...
Is the place where messengers pick up my prayers,
Where I can see with three eyes,
Where I hear trough my skin,
Where the beginning is holding hands with the end.

A Place of Distance

My tightrope is a place of distance
Strung above the days of noise.
Far away but ever close
To passing clouds and shreds of thoughts,
And erring birds of circling words
Which, landing for assembling brakes
Plan here their new courageous flights.

Today

Walking my tightrope today
I saw the trees all upside down
Searching for clouds on water’s face
Now where are their roots?
I guess in the sky...
And mine?
Yours?

Now

I'm sitting on my tightrope
Holding my breath.
All I have is the moment,
All I have is the Now.
I stretch my hand to the future,
The moment it's now it gets past.
I stretch my hand to the past,
I'm missing my moment of now.
I try to hold on to the moment,
All I ever had is the Now.
I'm sitting up on my tightrope
But I better continue to breathe,
Cause the moment I do stop breathing
The loss of my breath is my now.

Time

I am obsessed with the reality… or non-reality of time…

Is time a dimension?
Is there any duality to time?
Is time linear?
Is there any non-time?
Is time energy?
How can we loose time, safe time, win time?
Can time stop, be compressed, slow down, extend or reverse?

Passing

Passing of thoughts like
The birds in the wind
No traces
No traces
No traces

Passing of feelings
Like waves in the wind
No traces
No traces
No traces

Passing of dreams
Like smoke in the wind
No traces
No traces
No traces

Footprints

After the snow has melted away,
But the lake is still frozen,
Footprints can be seen crisscrossing the ice
Where deer and foxes passe
With hungry stomachs longing for food

After the years have melted away
But the body is still alive
Footprints can be found crisscrossing the soul
Where deeds and wishes passe
The restless mind longing for love

Contemplation

Spending some time on a bridge…
Looking up the river
Looking down the river
Contemplating
Future now and past
I couldn’t make up my mind
Where the future was…
Was future the stream coming towards me?
Was my place on the bridge the ‘now’?
Were the leaving waters equal to our idea of the past?
They had passed under the bridge, yes… but
Weren’t the waters running down constantly towards the future?
If I would be sitting in a boat
The water would carry me towards the future ahead.

Spending some time on a bridge…
Observing the waters
Was creating 'illusions' of now, future and past
Maybe there is no past
No future either
And not even a now.
There might be only the ‘flow’!

Gone

A flapping of wings…
Angel is gone

A flapping of wings…
Time is gone

A flapping of wings…
Dream is gone

I am left…
A dancing shadow on the lake.

Ripples on the Water

Thoughts are like breezes
Rippling the surface of the waters of mind.
Silvery ripples
On the clear deep stillness of a pure heart

Waves of emotion
Stirring up debris of unresolved past
Obstructing the knowledge of fearless poise
Washing ashore an unknown fate

Communication

Sometimes – sad-times, there are walls instead of bridges.
The way you talk – the way you think – the way you look – the way you want
Sometimes – sad-times, there seems no way to shaking hands.
The way you feel – the way you dream – the way you walk – the way you act
Sometimes – sad-times, gray stones piled up in front of us!
The way the time – will rule your life – your voice, in vain – it’s not to hear
Sometimes sad-times, there are walls instead of bridges.

Fragments of Truth

It’s those Nights
Those sleepless nights
With the black moon
Showing
That we don’t know who we are
And where we go
Nor where we stand
Or where we fall
Into the bottomless lake
Of our past –
Our many pasts
Through pain and tears
Back to the Source
Where we loose ourselves
Dissolving into nothing
Nothing but bliss

Reaching out

Sometimes you reach out a hand to a friend
And then you know
That your life does make sense
Again and again and again

Sometimes you find those words of love
And then you know
That your life does make sense
Again and again and again

Innocence

I wonder… can innocence ever be built up again?
Is innocence an open window to mystery?
Does innocence mean to be able to fly, in a way?
Does it need innocence to find answers to our prayers everywhere?
Is it innocence that allows us to talk to a God?
Is innocence needed to communicate with flowers and trees?
Do only the innocents believe in their dreams?
Is innocence something we can really loose,
Ever?

Time

Sometimes it feels as if time stood still
No sound, no breath, no wind, no air that moves
Or maybe not – it might be just the opposite
I lost motion but time goes on
Time, wait for me, go slow and wait, until I come!
Have you ever seen time waiting?
The clock stands still
But the moment is gone
Have you seen the moment leave?

Do I have to panic now?

Questions

What is a mirror image anyway?
What is an echo?
What is a dream?

What happens when the wind has died?
How does the shadow speak?

What is a fragment of eternity?
What is a life?
What is a light?

What happens when the heart has died?
How does the soul then speak?

Circle patterns

Fish leaping after flies - circle patterns on the lake
Rain falling - circle patterns on a puddle
Your tears - circle patterns in my heart
Words I read - circle patterns of thoughts

No wings

Raindrops at my window
Tears on my cheeks
My thoughts wrapped up in a rainbow
You've left me without my wings

Floating in Change

Thinking by yourself, asking questions and getting answers
Floating in constant change.
You may get wiser, or more confused.
Your wisdom my be...
Letting go of knowledge and of fixed believes.
Your confusion may be...
Loosing your self and to realize that you are co creator.
Creation’s basic truth is change.
You can’t hold on to who you are.
You are the new one you’re becoming
Constantly…

Stranded Past

Does this exist?
Is there a thing like ‘stranded past’?
Some past that didn’t pass.
Is this what still keeps hurting you,
Some past that stranded in your bones
And in your memories…

Conquer the Dragon

I always wondered...
Am still wondering why
You were born under such a purplish sky
The night she danced with the dragon.

I always prayed...
Am still praying today
You'll grow up to laugh and you'll learn to fly
The night you'll have conquered the dragon.

I'll be There

Sometimes… somehow…
I just wish to turn around and slip away…
In total silence… unseen… unheard… never been…
Not only from situations…
But also from facts…
From knowing…
Certain thoughts coming up…
Those questions and answers…

Sometimes… somehow…
I just wish to turn around and slip away…
In total silence… unseen… unheard… never been…
Letting go of myself…
The heartbeat and the breath…
And time…
Leaving all attachments behind…
Friends and enemies alike…

Sometimes… somehow…
I just wish to turn around and slip away…
In total silence… unseen…unheard… never been…
But…
You know it…
If you need me…
Call me…
I’ll be there!

Tell Me

Deep inside my silent self
There is a river flowing
There are these boats
I call my dreams.
Tell me, oh
Please tell me
Where are they going?

Deep within my silent self
There is a river flowing
There are the waters
I call my tears.
Tell me, oh
Please tell me
Where are they going?

Deep within my silent self
There is a river flowing
There are those sparkles
I call my smiles.
Tell me, oh
Please tell me
Where are they going?

Worth While

At some moment in my life, I was thinking:
"If this moment was all life would have given to me,
it would have been worth while living!"
I don't recall, when I was thinking that,
but I know that I've had this thought many times.
I'm thankful for it!
Thankful, even if the wonderful moment
has long disappeared in the hazy distant of the past.

I wish I could remember what it was:
Was it that awesome red golden sunset between the darkening trees?
Was it when I heard your footsteps at my door?
Was it when I forgot myself while listening to music?
Was it when I sent out a quest and the answer showed me, that I was heard?
Was it when I was hugging and climbing my favorite tree?
Was it when I succeeded turning your tears into a smile?
Was it when I was licking dew from flowers as a child?
Was it when we sat hugging on a city bench
at dawn and a drunkard gave us stolen flowers, all upside down?

Creation is a dance

What is it all about being creative:
Casting sculptures, painting canvases, drawing on paper or publishing?
If I sing my song
The song will be gone in no time...
A little echo somewhere before dissolving in silence.
If I dance my dance...
I may leave patterns imprinted on the earth.
Maybe someone who sees my footprints
Will take up my dance and will continue
Dancing my dance in his way
And maybe while walking in my footprints
Will decode the melody
Hidden within the track of my steps.

Scarcity

Moon lost its light
Stars turned pale,

Sun froze to a birch tree
Crows fed on their own footprints in the snow,

My tender words turned into icicles and stuck to our windows;
Nobody was believing in spring any more!

Thoughts

Let’s think, just in case
If all there is, is God and God is all there is.
Can absence of God be anywhere?

If all there is, is light and light is all there is,
Is no light within darkness?
Could darkness be light that has forgotten itself?

If all there is, is love and love is all there is,
Is hatred just the ‘other end’ of love?
Is hatred the ‘shadow’ of love?

Circle

Even if it ’s late, it ’s never ever too late
Because the earth is round and time is round too.
The beginning is forming a circle from the end to the beginning again
And the end is forming a circle from the beginning to the end again.
There is no too late and no too early in the space of eternity.
We may begin today or tomorrow
It soon will become yesterday and the day before yesterday.
If we wish that tomorrow will be better than yesterday
We better begin before yesterday or a year before yesterday or even earlier
To achieve this we have to leave the circling of the circle
Make the effort to lift the circle
To slowly get it moving up into a spiral
Where the end is above the last beginning
And the beginning is above the last ending
On and on and on...

Grey

Some days are grey
More grey
Heavy grey
Choking grey
Even the rays of sun are grey
And the blue sky is grey
Grey flowers all over
No tears any more
No air any more
No dance
Only grey – grey – grey
Motionless grey

Simultaneously

The grey and the colorful are existing at the same time.
I haven’t figured out yet
How to deal with both of it at the same time
I haven’t found out yet
How to find a place for tears and a smile in my face at the same time
I haven’t figured out yet
How to continue singing my life’s song while feeling emptied out
I haven’t learnt yet
How to love who I hate at the same time

Warm Nights

It’s now again when the nights get warm
I would like to stay outside and meditate
Imagining I was a growing plant
A sister to the trees and the flowers
Moths would sit on my fingertips
Moon would silently tell the time
And bird would at once in the middle of night
Rehearse its song in her sleep

Forever

I love to be the one…
That loves to be the one…
That loves to stay a child forever
A child of myself
And a child of the sky
Child of the universal hope of someday learning to fly…
A child of constancy
And a child of change
Child of the eternally evolving mysteriously dreaming Divine…

Evening

Sitting on my tightrope today
I can’t find words to describe

This evening of unbearable sweetness
Of velvety warmth and melting melodies…

Dipping my toes into swimming clouds,
I tried to hold on to the leaving sun

While the sickle of moon
Carved ancient symbols into my heart.

Sweet Song

...but the night bird is singing so sweet!
Dream ’s kissing goodbye at early dawn…
Its blue breath turning pink…
Loosing necklaces of tears all the way…

…but the night bird was singing so sweet!
All my day I replay this wondrous song…
And I hope and I wait...
For my dream and the night bird to come…

A Sigh

Sitting at mother mountain’s feet
Lost within the presence
Of the song of a bird
A sigh at my center
Opened its wings
Left silently
And rose
Above

Sitting at mother mountain’s feet
Lost within the presence
Of the song of a bird
A sigh at my center
Opened its wings
Left silently
And dove
Below

My Life

My life is my prayer
Is my song
And is time…
Compressed to some feeling
That's uniquely mine!

My life is my river
That broke free
From a dream…
Rushing down to some ocean
That is yours and is mine.

My life is my arrow
Is my leap,
Across space…
Flying forth from an arch,
That's my start and my aim!

Consolation

Why do you think you sing alone?
I am the echo of your song.

Why do you think you walk alone?
I am the shadow beneath your feet.

Why do you think you sleep alone?
I am the feather in your pillow.

Why do you think you dream alone?
I am the velvety breath of your night.

Why do you think you cry alone?
I am the air that dries your tears.

Why do you think you fall alone?
I am the sob that leaves your throat.

Why do you think you die alone?
I am the angel that lifts you up.

Directions

Turn your back to the light
Then your shadow’s walking ahead of you.

Walk towards the light
You’ll leave your shadow behind.

Wings

And then
We held our breath
Motionless
Watching the light drown.

Give me wings, my love
Give me wings for my soul to fly
To the land of the time’s return!
Give me wings, silent wings for my soul…

And again
You’d walked away
No goodbye
Under an empty sky

Give me wings, my love
Give me wings for my soul to fly
To the land of the time’s return!
Give me wings, silent wings for my soul…

And still
I’m waiting
Holding pieces of a broken heart
No glue to heal

Give me wings, my love
Give me wings for my soul to fly
To the land of the time’s return!
Give me wings, silent wings for my soul

Beneficial Circle

In healing ourselves
We are healing others
In getting healed
We’re becoming healers
In healing others
We’re healing ourselves

Sort of

Some sort of silence
Motionless
Thoughtless
Stillness
Some sort of waiting

Thunder in the distance
Fearless
Breathless
Brightness
Flares of lightning

Some sort of strength
Speechless
Listless
Sadness
Some sort of apathy

Reality

Reality... is it what we see... is it what we believe... is it true?
Why is your reality not mine, and why is my reality not same as yours?
Why are there many answers to one question?
Why not only one, the right one?

Long Way Home

I am glad I’m home.
The streets were long, long, long,
No snow no wind, no rain.
The streets were free and the drive was smooth
The trees looked cold, all of them and
Many of them had a bird at their top branches
It made me wish to sit as a black bird, in poise
The tip of the top branch underneath of my feet
Up there, above the tallest tree
The view and the peace…
Just for a fragment of time
The feeling must be… thoughtless power of now…
Two wings would spread open then to sail
The air above winter colors of browns and bluish grays in many ways
But yellow is standing out
The willows, all the willows are yellow
I took it all in and brought it with me
The endless carpet of street with the cars in front of the window
It’s rolled up as a film behind my eyes
The heavy truck that blew the soft snow at the side into mini twisters
Without wind just for the monster truck
The sleepy snowflakes danced pirouette after pirouette
We left for gas and for coffee
The donuts were greasy and the coffee was hot
But good and I’m glad I am home.

Mostly

Mostly I don’t like to go to bed ‘till late…
Mostly I don’t like to let go of my dreams…
Mostly I don’t like to stop what I’m doing right then and now…
Mostly I feel light and happy and there’s a song in my middle…
Mostly I don’t see the clouds but the sky in between…
Mostly, while listening to water flowing or wind blowing I hear voices…
Mostly while staring at an empty canvas I see forms…
Mostly when I close my eyes I see colors dancing or patterns in black ‘n white…
Mostly my paintings done in dusk get the best…

I didn’t say that mostly is all the time!

Spirit

I haven’t seen you
But I feel you are hiding
Where the wind is kissing the mountains
And the dreams of tomorrow arise

I haven’t touched you
But I feel you are so close
To where I’m loosing my breath
With the dying of yesterday's dreams

I haven’t talked to you
But I feel you know all my thoughts
Even before I hesitantly cast them into the mold
Of language to give form to my dreams of today

I haven’t heard you
But I feel you are whispering all around me
And the songs coming up in my heart
Are just echoes of your universal dream

This Night

This wet and windy night
A tree crashed down.
Black waters of rain
Were washing their tears
Over branches,
That had given up
On reaching any higher
Up to the stars with their prayers…

I am the wet and windy night
I am the rain cloud filled with cold tears
I am the tree crashing down
I am the broken trunk fallen onto the earth
I am the prayer on its way to the stars…

I am the wind that shook the tree
I am the seed that grew and grew
I am the earth that held the seed
I am the prayer on its way to the stars…

A Dance

Above all it’s a dance!

Don’t forget…
It’s a dance
Of black and white
Of no and yes
Of shadow and light
Of hatred and love
Of death and birth
Of the low and the high
Of stillness and noise
Of sleep and wake
Of loss and gain
Of forgetting and remembering
Of sorrow and joy
Of creation and destruction
Of truth and lie
Of coming and going
Of despair and of hope

It’s a dance above all it’s a dance!

I Sense

At times I sense…
The breath of hope and disappointment
The sighs of change
The death of laughter and of dreams
The teeth of murder
The empty silence of past screams
The candles been blown
The wisdom of all ages lost
The lawlessness of jurisdiction
The helplessness of ‘too late’
The crazy eyes of torture
The desperation of a broken wing
The loss of another species gone
The stains on human’s souls
The nothing where your God has been

I Am

I am and I’m not - just a happy sigh - just a sigh
You take the happiness - I'll hold the sigh!
I am and I’m not - just a healing wish - just a wish
You take the healing - I'll hold the wish!
I am and I’m not - just a speechless prayer - just a prayer
You take the speechlessness - I'll hold the prayer!
I am and I’m not - just a travelling star - just a star
You take the travelling - I'll hold the star!
I am and I’m not - just a moment of time - just a time
You take the moment - I'll hold the time!
I am and I’m not - just a wondrous song - just a song
You take the wonder - I'll hold the song!
I am and I’m not - just the touch of a soul - just a soul
You take the touch - I'll hold the soul!
I am and I’m not - just a silent dream - just a dream
You take the silence - I'll hold the dream!