They whisper about the new King and how
he is a bit odd
in several many things
and different

Their heads bow
nevertheless
to address this man
who does not know how
to suppress a stare
to swallow down
any feeling to ban
all signs of insecurity
from his face

They kneel just once
before they are pulled up
in an awkward ****
a strong
slightly shaking arm
commanding them upward
level with an open face
in awe of
what had just happened

A wordless command
You will never be Bystanders
ever again

^^^
-----

In truth you do not
lose yourself
but find
you do not split
apart
but mend
you put your hands together
dear
this music
that you heard
you hear
it plays
for You

🌠

You sit by the forest and weep
a deep
deep
feeling
of loss

a world
turning inside out
for the first time
in your life


                                                              ­          You sit by the river and cry
                                    untying all knots with shaking, coop'rative hands
                                                           ­                                  a dance of your
                                                                ­                             true molecules

                                                     ­     

                                                             🌊

A wooden boat
with coloured, ragged sails
like a patchwork rug eagerly patched
together by two children
floats downstream

From here you see
all the way the boat has come down
has navigated through some
really critical points
and shallow water

Through some serious storms

And you smile benevolently
when you see it bravely rambling on
and sometimes lose direction
or so it seems

On the boat
on its slippery wooden planks
you stand holding on to
the mast and see
something else

There you see
howling waters coming
towards the fragile looking  bow
sharp pieces of
rock and massive bark floating by

You see the horizon and the unknown
behind it
the potential
Niagara Falls

You hear the bashing sound
of the water masses
the roar terrifies you
paralyses-

Apply bird's eye, dear

What is that you hear?

Apply
bird'eye
and float
downstream

❦

And then we part
into storm and chaos and we do so because
we can
because
we know

in truth

nothing

separates us

About halfway through you know, the way is there, but it unfolds from your insides. It is the most intimate path anyone can know, there for only your feet to walk on, and yet connected to every moth, every silky feather, every wanderer on the road. It is yours because you saw it. It spirals out of your own heart, sometimes emerald green and delightful, sometimes pure darkness, horrid images and torn faces, sometimes red and wide and patient.

A thought completely
free of any
heavy logic
flies through you right
into your fingertips to hover
just a semi second
before leaking
like a delicious liquid
into the black and white
of your instrument

A silver stream of knowledge
in the cold winter air
surrounds you
holds
to ask you
for permission;
this is not a dream

A sea of tears, and
who says
they were there
always, who says
no being shed them -
a sea of tears
cried from
living eyes

Ideas thoughts photons dart
at the sheer spaciousness -
that
is your heart there
in the middle

I hate how I
think and think
in my head
if you
love me

or just loved the feeling of
being in love

I should know you
and myself
better than that.

You've touched a fountain buried
so deep
it surges
through you
greets
every single cell
transforms you
as you were
dear
as you were
with all your power

What a sight;
the big tree bending
his crown towards
the ground just to make sure -
is he still safely rooted
connected
to the earth -
for all this time his trunk
felt irritably numb and so
and so
he couldn't know,
he couldn't
know

Racks my brain
racks my brain racks my-

because:
how why for what
reason
do we
so much in vain attempt
to
pin
things
down

not let them

be

He rides through
the forests the rainy leaves splashing
into his face leaving
scratches on his hairy cheek
the horse panting
his lungs exploding regularly and his
fist clenching
the glass ball in which
he thought he saw
the witch from childhood stories
taking away
his everything
he rides on pushes his heels
into the horse's flanks
in anguish in panic in
agony
for all he has he feels glides through
his open palm
and off it goes
So he rides and rides and...

Back when he was a little child and lay
on his back eyes open
in the dark in his bed
he always had his
palms open
never clung to any thing because
he was the one
creating the things
and he knew
whatever new thing he wanted or needed he could
with the blink of an eye
create

Now he rides makes the poor horse rush
through the dark woods to-
whereto?

The child rises

Whereto? Where does he need to go to-

Inside, stirs, opens the eyes-

He stops
The horse comes to a halt panting
relieved to catch up with his breath-

    They see each other
and the panic the agony the fear
drops
out of his
opened fist
to the wet
forest ground

The horse breathes
relieved

[...]
And are you are you gonna
come
Home this time are you gonna speak
it all out the way the words are there now
are you
spilling over and are you
letting go of this age old story and
release
it to be exactly that now
A story
that you may not even want to revive for your children because the
fear
that they have to know they need to know because what if
is now
gone for good
replaced
by this massive
thing which
and it takes a while to accept
a while to
sink in and realize
is  L i f e  itself
Life that always supports
always holds ground
and never fails you
Life that
comes up with the sun and the grass and the sea
and everything else
right in front of your face
never ever pulls away from you in truth
This
is Life and this is
the only story
worth passing on

Within you there is a new kind of earth
being formed
with a new clear fresh
sea
although it is not other
A sea you dare set sail on
now
and share
and the sound of the waves crashing on the sandy shore makes
your eyes water
your heart almost
explode
of joy
Can you see it
See it
You exhale
slowly
your hair ruffled by the warm wind
What a journey
you think
What a long journey to get back here
and find everything
even more beautiful than when I have left off



                             ^^^^^^^^^^^
                  ^^^^^^^^^^^^
   ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Holding
holding
holding the strings together
of the net which is
already ripped
you are so
devastated
clutching
the wet fabric
and yet with almost
99 percent by now-

you see the picture
of torn down stone walls
houses
bridges
bricks and cans and garbage bags
all tied together in a sac
of string
and how a kid
with fatal look and scissors
approaches -

you **** well know the kid will bring you freedom
you
****
well
know-

why hesitation?
why delay?
cause things take time til their decay can be
accepted-

look up
and see the waters rolling in
look up and see
the flood

let the kid
cut
the last remaining string
and roll with it

One foot in sea one
on shore
you
secured
your Being
down to the
roots
of the roots
and up -

out from your core

Look
my Love-
and if I have to literally

   lift

     your

        foot

and place it
ahead so that
it forms
your second step and third...

I'll do it

It is dark. Night. The girl opens the window,
looks up to where she knows Orion's belt resides behind the clouds.
She thinks now she understands time.
She thinks she sees time growing out from her heart
in an illuminated spiral, flashing green,
and not ever the other way around.
She imagines the stars looking back, benevolent and still sincere, still there, in the night sky.
Still there now.
And now.
And always.

a pair of purple eyes shines
intimidating
through your layers of night -
a wish you remember
which just does not leave you alone

Going home
can hurt so much
that you may be obliged to touch
a strangers hand
to make it.

And even if the gap seems wide
and dark
and deep
just be aware that-
very much like me-
in you there lies a brilliant seed
that grows
and shows the stranger
just then that you need
help.