I see the grass pushing
through layers of darkness
rising, rising, always rising
and at its very peak,
as if suddenly tired,
falling back to the ground.

I see the fern unfolding
in an eternal spiral
fragile, yet curious
until fully open, ever expansive.
With open arms, it dies
softly embraced by the ground.

I see the sun set,
the Earth rotate,
and galaxies spiral.
Was I ever asked to participate
in this dance of creation?
Did I say yes? I wonder.

If I embark on this dance,
how can I rise with grace
in all my beauty?
Like the fern and the grass
until the soil
catches my final fall?

Dance with me, son
twin to my moon
center of my universe
blood of my blood.

My sweet boy,
what have you become?

I see you yearning for love,
yet burn everything
you touch with greed
desiring it be yours.  

I see you clinging to power
in your firm grip
nothing remains
that carries a soul.

I see a warrior, a fighter,
a wanderer, a lost soul
far away in foreign lands
of the mind.

Come back down
down to mother earth
the land of the living
where everything takes root.

Dance with me, son
naked and
barefoot
on ***** ground.

Am I the snake
the endless temptation
the sin of all sinners
the never forgiven?

Am I the poison
that burns its way
ripening the fruit
in shades of scarlet red?

Or am I the victim
blind to see through
eternally helpless in
life’s biggest tragedy?

When did all my powers
leave my earthly body?
Where is my strength,
my fierceness, my fire?

Give me a reason!
Not to burn down
the one who planted
that apple tree.

A major difference that makes me feel like a woman is
that I bleed.

That I regularly give of myself for the mere possibility of
life, human life, to continue.

It's a gift. An involuntary one, yet still a gift many of us are
offering to life.

If I don't call myself a woman, then what happens
to the acknowledgement of this gift?


A major difference that makes me feel like a woman
is that I am taught to be small.

I am constantly forced to defend myself against those who try to make themselves big by making me small.

It's a curse. An involuntary one, yet one I, like my ancestors,
must carry with grace.

If I call myself a woman, can I ever rid
myself of that curse?


When asked, I must admit that I don't often know what it means
to be a woman.

It seems like I can either accept the curse and the gifts alike
or abandon them altogether.

Will I be free if I let go of the past? What can grow when I abandon what was once considered my very soil?

Maybe, remind me of the names of those who walked before me and those who I am here for.

They say it will strengthen love
if you commit to it forever.
That what lasts long
is the only good and true.

But why do I feel like
what was once a gift,
now a regular demand,
looses all its soul.

And once being brave enough
to look in the mirror
might even turn out to be
nothing at all.

When I ask the wind of us,
it tells me to listen.
Seeing the invisible force
of everything unfolding.

When I ask the river of us,
it invites me to let go.
An empty shell breaking open
on the raging coastline.

When I ask the forest of us,
it dares me to get lost.
In the mysteries
yet to unfold.

When I ask the earth of us,
it asks me to plant.
“What do I want to harvest?”
in the time to come.

When I ask of us,
life tells me to expand.
Despite it all
what my father,
my mother and my priest say.
Get wide, instead of small!

Wenn die Farben langsam verschwimmen
Und das Leben sich entzieht,
Wenn jeder *******schwerer
Und der Kreis fast vollkommen ist.

Dann zieh ich alles in mich ein
Ein letztes Mal dem Zog hingeben,
Dem göttlichen Leben
Entblößen in voller Ergebenheit.

Wirf mich ein letztes Mal hinauf
Dem Himmelreich will ich begegnen,
Fang mich ein letztes Mal auf,
Oh du verflucht(es), buntes Leben.

//

When the colors slowly fade
And life withdraws,
When every step is harder
And the circle is almost fulfilled.

Then I draw everything into myself
Surrendering to the pull one last time,
To the divine life
Giving myself fully.

Throw myself up one last time
I want to meet the kingdom of heaven,
Catch me one last time,
Oh you ******, colorful life.