*

winter solstice
there always is silence, before the birth of a heavenly symphony
there always is void, before the creation of a beautiful piece of art
there always is wasteland, before the planting of a rose-garden
there always is letting go, before receiving something stunningly new
there always is a blank page, before it`s filled with flowing verses
there always is white canvas, before it shows a wondrous image
there always is an empty stage, before the union of the lovers
there always is dark night, before the birds start singing their morning praises
there always is a death, before a rising of new life
there always is great pain, before gained wisdom, peace and joy
there always is a cold winter, before awakening of life-promising spring
there always is loneliness, before meeting the one who will take it away forever
there always is a darkest night, before the new birth of the light
but for all in love with the sunrise
still true to the night
tonight, at winter solstice, all the universe is giving its undeniable promise that no
matter how long the darkness, sadness, loneliness,
at the breaking of dawn,
there always will be love, joy, light ♡♡♡
☀ " ✨
Eurydice
Only with my eyes closed do I see you,
The hidden fears of being found
Echo my way to your self.
Slowly I retrace the steps to find you through memory and hope;
Lost dreams and scattered imagination,
Each crack under my feet until behold
I see you, softly muttering
Dreams that float from your lips
Like petals that carry ever so far inside of you
Until they evaporate in the darkness
Yet, here, find light
Outstretched to you, so willing
To melt apart the shell,
And warm the new skin, reborn.

Newly crowned, you will reign over my free-dom,
Majestic, you will be revered.
As newly discovered earth,
Explored, known and made rich.
I grasp your hand pulling you close,
As you push away
Into hesitation, awareness.
and blur through the present,
Sliding past hesitation and
Behind the wall, the turmoil sprays upward, mist
Cooling, beckoning mystery.
Thank you so much... that is amazingly beautiful - and touching - and true... and
beautifully written - only with my eyes closed do I see you
If only everybody would know, and understand, and feel, and see behind the
shell... the longing of being found... through hope, and dreams and scattered
Imagination
I thank you for sharing this with me... to less people who want to find - and being
found; who want to see - and being seen...as they are or could be
❤
She is put together very delicately,
With the complexity of a timepiece,
Fragile to touch but strong enough to measure the world.
The world only sees her strength,
And she builds from this power of hers,
Shaping and bending the present to her.
She lays there, sideways watching everything. Her eyes just staring ahead as she
looks out to the window.
And the horizon both touches her face or just races away from her reach, making
everything seem both possible and distant.
She can count the beating of her heart so she knows she is very much alive. The

She can count the beating of her heart so she knows she is very much alive. The
morning is hers and the sun connects the points on her skin.
Just resting there she feels everything racing past her as her soul leaps to join it
all.
This month is hers.
☀
She stood there against the calm,
the wind ran up close against her skin
With the sky piercing blue
like one giant eye watching, unblinking.
The clothes fluttered on the line,
Making snapping sounds,
as if winter were hungry and waiting,
With jaws shaking like cracked ice.
Yet she stood there unshaken,
Lost and found in that moment
With a soft smile across her lips
As if she were in deep in soulful conversation.
The little girl had been watching her,
She seemed to have come from nowhere,
Her eyes were red and swollen,
Tears hung heavily onto her eyelashes.
She walked over to her and sat down,

She walked over to her and sat down,
Trying to instantly earn her trust
The way a cat can purr itself into ones life.
It works; the girl looked down and silently sits.
This girl's eyes were dark, like her hair,
And behind them burned embers
Red and fresh as if her whole world had
Exploded in one instant.
So she reached across and just touched the back of her hand,
It was soft, long as a new instrument.
She felt it calm down. Settle.
She knew this look, the one of loss,
It was written over her face,
Permanent and universal like ancient carvings.
But so fresh, she could almost peer down into the emptiness.
Comforting her, she tells her how she was also young once. And when she ever
felt afraid she would run away deep into the woods. Until she found a grassy field.
And she would sit. Under the sun, feeling like she was swallowed by sunlight.
Hoping that maybe she would just disappear under all of this light.

Hoping that maybe she would just disappear under all of this light.
In this light she would remember how it was to be held by that one who loved her
even before she was born.
That within those arms she was protected, invulnerable.
Then she would sleep and dreams would pass over her like clouds,
Offering her moments of comfort
Escaping everything
Every way.
Your love is the first,
And the last.
I seek to find you, so
I can to be lost in you.
When I see you,
I want to be hidden within your gaze.
The moment I grasp your warm skin,
I want to let go and fall completely into you.
Every time I move my lips to call your name,
I want them to close to kiss you.
I want each of my whispers into your ear,
To echo into the screams of your joy.
I give you the space to stand strong,
And then I am near in your weakness.
Your words are my last when I sleep,
And first when I awake.
I discover every inch of your body,
and become lost in the scent that rises to meet me.

I weave the bindings of our love with our weakness,
Tying ourselves together in this hidden strength.
I see you again and again to live again,
Then seek blindness so your memory is last memory.
Your love is the seed that grows life within me,
And the death of all that has strangled the dreams of my present.
I seek to have you forever,
But desperately seek to hold you within each second.
I want to forget everything that I know.
So I can learn all of you.
I can find you even in the discordant voices of myself,
Where you harmonize your identity with mine.
I let the edges of you slip away from me,
So I can spend the rest of my days reclaiming what I let go.
I hold you as you sleep,
So we can be awake together.
And I hold you as we wake,
So we can know rest.
☀"
The search
She saw him from afar. A stranger that stood on her shore. He said that he
followed the sound of the voice, leaving his vessel to begin this journey to her.
She laughed at these reasons, found them comical when she thought of all that
she was still seeking. How could she ever be anyone's shore when she so wanted
herself to plunge into the ocean?
He looked lost and disheveled. A soul suffering from too many searches. She
almost felt sorry for him. Pitying how this journey would bear him no fruit. How
long has she struggled alone. Battling the never ending battles that one engages
in her head.
So she dares him to respond, again. Why are you here?

And he asks her what does it mean to be dead in life? To have laughter bounce
off of you and only feel the pain of its cadence. To see beauty like no other and
watch it whither to your touch.
How does it feel to live life with the slow burn of your soul at its wick's end?
And she knows. And now she is questioning whether she is so alone.
But, again, does not the sharing of the same pain mean that they are no more
better for each other than two stranded ships if they ever wish to get off this
island?
He now looks at her and smiles. My lady, he says, you did not know this but the
journey is not to leave this island and return to where we came but the journey is
to be on this island. For years I have been lost at sea searching for the island that
has the treasure and the adventure that would test and reward the person I am.
So I searched. I found adventure and some treasure and I waited for the moment
of feeling filled on the shores of each island. I surrounded myself with only that
which confirmed the person I wanted to be. Voices would echo my thoughts and
my belief until I thought the echo was the voice of the divine and my following a
sign of my faith. Yet, all I did was worship myself and my own creations.
Then, she asked, how is this shore any different from all the others? You may yet
again be repeating your failures, except that you now hear my voice.
Yes, your voice, he replies. Your voice is what brought me here, but I do not
confuse it as my own. When you called me, you did not ask for me. Instead I
heard the sound of your plea and knew that our journeys are meant to be as one.
What you were pleading for were the fears and dreams that I had hidden even to
myself.
Take flight
Today, is that day we waited for and hoped for. The day when a dream was born
and a hope was made.
We are simple children of earth but even we know when grace has arrived, as if it
were a new bird that landed in our midst, colored and lost but still full of purpose.
We call out its name but it looks not at us because this small bird is not of this

world and seeks not what we seek. Slowly it flutters high above us and begins to
circle us. In awe, we look above and see that following its flight is a rainbow that
traces where it has been and where it will go.
And with this insight falls just a single feather that lands on the small palm of a
child. This child dreams and begins to run alongside this bird. Slowly the child
began to lift. The soft fabric of his clothing began to peel past and flutter in the
wind until he as well began to fly. He rises and becomes that what he was always
meant to be and meant to be that which he learned was impossible.
And slowly everyone begins to understand that there is beauty in this world that is
given to allow one to dream and to hope in what is possible.
!
For then, if not your whole heart is into something what could it be worth? It ́s not
to predict the future or to not be playful - it ́s just about truthfullness and respect
☀
For throwing your whole heart into something, no matter what it is, that ́s the fun
part right there - and the high risk. I ́m not afraid of any risks, but I ́m not gonna
jump out of a plane without a parachute. I ́m wild, i ́m crazy, i ́m emotional - but i
́m not interested in hurting myself as i ́m not interested in hurting others.
yes, you got that right, there ́s a longing in my voice, a calling for life, for love (in
any form and there are so many forms), for adventure, for true encounters, for
serving, for helping, for being seen and being hold, for poetry :), for flying over the
amazingly wild colorful ocean, for intensity, for desire, for souls to connect, for
justice, for healing, for dreaming and for fullfilling your dreams, for anything else
than mediocracy, dullness, lukewarmness, for the marrow of life, for being
challenged, for travelling the whole earth, for exploring what you find, for
wildness, for fun, for truthfullness, for joy, for music (with lyrics and melodies :)),
for a little shiver now and then and some goosepops, for magic, for really nice
company.
Since you are nice company, you ́re more than welcome to join me a little on this
wild and crazy roadtrip. I ́ll leave my bags open for you to throw in your
toothbrush and some of your clothes, much more intensity, some poems -
pleeeaaase - and then some more, some wild and crazy thoughts, some hurts
and aching to heal the world, some deep questions, some nice books to read to
each other by the campfire, some fun, some challenges, some longing and a little
desire here and there, some magic and some little sparkle for the eyes :). oh, and
could you bring that voice, please :) that makes me shiver and that smile

You want to challenge me? Ready when you are! But maybe I can challenge you
as well, to jump with me from the highest mountain, we can find on our trip, and
find the magic in falling :)

!beseelt
Können Worte Flügel haben?
Können sie wie Schmetterlinge durch die Luft gleiten?
Können aus Worten Geschichten werden und aus Geschichten ein Leben?
Können sie sich erheben wie ein Vogel, der seine Schwingen ausbreitet und abends
über das offene Meer fliegt?
Der Herbst kommt langsam unaufhörlich näher - Stück für Stück ... mit ihm kommt
die Melancholie - keine tiefe schwere, sondern eher eine leichte, beglückende und
reinigende ... ja, es fließen auch Tränen, so wie die Regentropfen, aber heilsame und
zauberhafte und sie tragen Magie in sich... Jede Jahreszeit hat so wie jede Tageszeit
und jede Lebenszeit ihre magische Energie und ihre Bestimmung ... der Frühling
bringt das Loslassen und die Hoffnung, der Sommer den Genuß und die
Lebensfreunde, der Winter die Besinnung und die Einkehr... und der Herbst ... diese
tiefe Innenschau, diese Melancholie, die sanft ist und heiter, die Nebel werden
dichter und dennoch wird der Schleier dünner... und wir werden, so wir uns denn
darauf einlassen, näher zu unserem wahren Kern geführt... bei Regen und im Herbst
kommen die Gedichte, dann fließen sie einfach, begleitet von Glück, Lächeln,
Traurigkeit und Tränen - ich bin glücklich im Herbst, ich mag den Abend, ich mag
diese Reise in die Stille, wenn alles Glitzernde und Glänzende für einen kurzen
Moment versiegt und wenn die Sehnsüchte und Fehler, Versäumnisse... wenn all das
vor einem liegt und die Seele spricht... jedesmal wenn man den Federhalter zur Hand
nimmt... wenn die Nacht langsam ihre schwarze Hand über den Himmel ausbreitet,
wenn Lichter sich im Wasser spiegeln und Regentropfen über Glas fallen... wenn
bunte Blätter im Wind tanzen, Tannenzapfen, Bucheckern und Eichen fallen und
wenn man sich zu fühlen erlaubt, was die Seele fühlt
❤
neben all den großen und kleinen Sehnsüchten im Leben hat jedes Lebewesen doch
eine große Sehnsucht - ganz und gar sein können, wie man ist - ohne zurückgewiesen
zu werden...
# $
pures Leben, ungeplant, unbeständig, mitreißend und zutiefst berührend. Die Chance
bekommen, meinem Traum näherzukommen, zu lernen, zu (er-)leben, ganz und
rein... Elefanten im Indonesischen Dschungel geritten, barfuß durch matschige
Reisfelder gewatet, Koalas und Känguruhs im australischen Outback gestreichelt...
glücklich, glücklich, glücklich

lange war ich von der Zivilisation abgeschnitten, Nun auf dem Weg nach Hause,
noch eineinhalb Wochen frei bis es weiter geht in den Iran, Ägypten und Mexiko
City...
ich bin nicht da, unerreichbar manchmal... in meinen Adern fließt Nomadenblut,
Gypsyrhythmus und Abenteurergeist... die Frau, die von all ihren Reisen nach Hause
kommt in ein Nest, wo sie sich in Führung fallen lassen kann, ist stark und doch ist
die wilde Piratin nicht aufzuhalten... sie träumt von niemals endenden Weltreisen,
von Sternenregen, Wolkenspielen, Möwenkreischen, hohen Wellen am Bug,
durchtanzten Karibiknächten und Wildpferden zwischen Lavendelfeldern, von
Morgengrauen über Eisbergen und schottischen Elfenlandschaften im Nebelschleier,
von Sanddünen und Hitzeflimmern, von Äffchen in Tempelhöhlen und Curryreis aus
Lorbeerblättern
ein Mann in meinem Leben kann daher entweder mit mir zusammen den Rucksack
schultern oder lebt in einer Warteschleife zwischen meinen Abenteuern - wäre da
nicht die Zigeunerin, die nichts so sehr wünscht wie ein wildes Leben im weiten
offenen Land***
verbunden mit den Winden der Meere und dem Singen der Kolibris
!
***
"

The Night
However, now, I am jealous of the night. For how can night be alone with
my love? Night, with its spell lays its magic over you and takes you away to
its domain.
While you sleep, night dances around your bed in a trance, beckoning you
to follow it down to the depths of hades where its kingdom lies.
It knows of your royalty, love, it knows of your divine royal blood.
It knows that your moist lips is the source of all nectar and that your breath
is the source of the spring wind...wind that blows scattered life through air.
Oh envious night, rapturous and greedy of all light. I claim this woman, I
mark her with my love...the rhythm of her heart is the song of our life. She
belongs to me and I to her.
For in the past, you were unchallenged and always conquered the night, but
now, dark agent, I stay awake as she sleeps! I watch over her and lift up the
shield of my love over her.
Yes, I whisper to you, be warned, for the day will come when I will lay
next to her and my arms, will surround her and create a holy gate through
which only those selected by the divine may know or those selected by this
goddess may let known.
Do not stir my love, be still, you are not alone. Do not whisper words of
sorrow or fear to this Night, for it feeds off of these words as a moth feeds
off locked memories.
I command you Night, stay away, your time is rapidly fading with the
arrival of dear Day. Be away! Be Banished...for the moon is setting and the
sun is rising.
With this rise of holy light, I stand, lift up the sheets and pull them away, so
you are no longer veiled by darkness. I lay you bare so that you are dressed
in the royal gown of morning.

Today, I Wish I Were a Bird
Today, I wish I were a night bird, resting outside a window...peering
in ...wishing to catch an image of my love.
For from thousands of miles will I fly to you, my beacon, finding you with
a compass placed within me at birth. I will seek you using the guide of my
heart.
over oceans and storms, I will not rest until I land softly by your side. and
allow your hair to cover me as a mother covers its chicks.
or rest against your warm skin, reminding me of the hours of flight when
the sun would beat against my wings.
I would speak and you would listen...your voice a song that I frantically
repeat back with hopes that you know my language.
your kind eyes will rest upon me, a smile on your lips. I will look up at
you...watching the moonlike crescent of your smile take me back to the
endless nights hovering over you ...with the soft glow of the moon guiding
my way.
For you, I would have flown to the richest palaces and carried milk white
pearls to lay before your feet...smooth reminders of your royal presence.
I would have pulled together webs and webs of silk from the forest and
twined them together until I made you a crown and gently placed it on your
brow.
Digging deep I would have gathered new born seeds and let the soft
saplings regrow underneath your feet as a new carpet of paradise is born
again for you.
Then, I would have raced into the storm and wind...collected the warm hard
raindrops between my feathers and then fluttered quickly over you to cool
your skin in the afternoon sun, creating a mist from the winged danced to

you.
How I would then find rest on your shoulders...as if you were my ark and I
was sent to search for peace and land...carrying in my beak an olive branch,
reminding you, that all that we knew is gone but all that is new is
found...found within your voice, hidden within your dreams and resting
within your morning.
For when the sun arises, I will sing you a new song. An ancient hymn long
taught to all of nature, a song of remembrance, a song of newness.
It is the song once sung to Solomon upon his receipt of divine wisdom, a
song sang to the solemn prophets when they received their call. A song
sung to you declaring your new love.
For all the world is yours, all the world is your domain, upon your gentle
lips comes forth the Word that gives life and the Word that gives meaning. * Joshua *