Such a stunning piece of work
it has become
and glowing
in the bright sunlight

Only here and there
are some spots that need
mending
still-

an ill feeling of
half-presence befalls me
every time I step
into such a spot-

But only for a second
before I kneel down-
hot and panting-
next to my toolbox and start
filling in the space
and thus connecting-

      This Bridge is not
a simple gateway to get
from one place to
another

But rather
is it in itself
a connection piece

I always feel
the magnetic pull
before I look up
eyes wide
seeing you soar through the air
then I wonder

There's a huge marble palace high
up above the clouds in the woods in the sky and beautiful birds
circle
its spires and fountains in this palace lives
a boy with pale skin not from
the lack of sun
with white lashes silvery
airy hair
A boy who runs plays jumps and one day
stumbles
into an unknown room
too dark to see his pale hands
Nevertheless
he permeates
the darkness
Eyes narrowed muscles only
half-tensed
A foggy thing softly
pushing tugging at
the corners of his mind
A memory
emerging
makes his feet
keep
the steady pace
into this room
towards a spot where
behind dusty curtains
a figure
curled up
sort of sleeps but breathes
gently
Pale hands find
Raven hair tug
lightly
Wake up, love
I was so pale cause you were missing

Your heart a scenery, a warm breeze and the scent oft salty sea, seagull cries distant and not so distant, your hand tight and secure
on the railing of your ship. Yes, your ship. The wooden planks now clean and fixed, the mast upright, the wind blowing just about right.
Where ever this will go, you are, and this is for sure, the captain.

The cave men's child sits
apprehensive
not really daring to make a first move
with all of the earth's turning
all of the creatures humming
outside the cave -
so Universe
intervenes
sends an image
of the night sky sprinkled
with silvery white scale-stars
on the pitch black
cosmic body
made of water -
a sign of intimate
Trust
for the cave men's child who
gets it
gets up
slowly
the right hand tinged in
rusty red colour
to make the boldest move -
a most beautiful handprint
on the cave walls
a slice of moonlight shining on it;
the most stunning canvas
of all time
the most courageous child

A breath-taking pattern on the lime stone ceiling
of flittering light square shapes
rounded
vibrating as the clear pool of water does underneath
you stand in awe -
meanwhile the words are still growing
in your heart and you know
you wait a little longer

Why are you shivering?
I just remembered-
something from your past?
No, yes - i dont know-
nothing that lasts
in any way.
How come your breath seems so repressed?
It does not-
-and your eyes narrowed?
And how come you keep asking me
all these things-
pierce my heart-
with that sharpened arrow?
I did not mean to-*
of course you did not-
that's like you
and you're whole lot
revisiting forbidden sites!

        Thus speaks one side of the two-colored face
                as the other speaks against it;
                          while the falcon keeps on turning,
                  unorientated, round and round

                                                                                      in the pale sunlight.

The little girl sits
with her braids flipping
on the wooden swing not
just swinging wildly yet
The greatest shame always was
she says
wisely
to let loose the infinite amount
of Love I carry in me
because
here you wait
you know this is
most essential
because they just wouldn't, for some reason, take it

Beat, goes your heart
and you let it connect

He used to
park his rusty red
mobile
near the riverside where you
tend to walk
chat talk
to the world
He used to serve the most
passionate Latte
One day you recognised
a delicate
bird on the foam
He used to park near the riverside
and still does

She is a young Warrior of Hearts, fierce yet thoroughly kind with the help of the Earth and a black Jaguar at her side, always. She has learned to command the Energies of the earthly Elements and channel the calm and unconditional and powerful Energy of her Brother and friend in Spirit, the silver light, who is a young man, modest but strong, short Hair and kindness shining from his entire figure. He deeply loves the Earth and she has gifted him with all sorts of green leaves and vivid flowers thruout their time together. She has the Warrior Dance in her blood, knows no chronology, number or comparison. She knows the Moment, the fight, the dance, and was born for that. She has wild, colorful hair to her shoulders with braids and feathers sticking out. Her face is painted with the Red Marks of War, and her eyes are steady and sparkle golden. She has the statue of a teenager, but she is slender and strong. Her only  armour is a golden chest protector, a short fluffy skirt of feathers and fur, and a silver moonstone around her neck. She uses her right hand and on her palm there is a Spiral Tattoo. He and she fight together now, side by side. And in harmony. She lets him surround her in his silver flame If she needs it, and she amazes him.
Quietly, but ever present and deep, sits the Moon Goddess in her pink lotus, wearing a simple long dress out of the fabric of the Universe itself, bright Stars stichted into it. She does not need to look at them to see them. Yet she holds the space for them to interact and dance. She is beautiful and timeless, a deep sense of calmness and integrity surround her. She feels affectionate towards them, and yet does not need to name her resonance for it always surrounds them, too.

✨✨✨

The Moon Goddess has accepted her Name and yet can accepts many names and none. Her Name does not define her, but it makes tangible what she has to offer to whom ever is willing to listen in the stillness. Her children are not only playing, they are putting her into Action, by their very own will. Her gaze resides on them in quiet amazement, and a glint of motherly pride moves her spacious Heart. They remind her.

🌱🌀🔥

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

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

In the middle of the middle
of no space
a pair of yellow, childlike eyes,
innocent and with
just a trace of oblivion,
opens

A look at
Creation
A rush of
Fear of so much
Love
And:
Crack
There he was
Placed outside
Consciousness

Do you like
Vanilla ice cream, Love
You nod say yes because
They have told you so they say all kids like
Vanilla ice cream, right

For years and years into
Your adult life you have
Despised
Vanilla ice cream until

One day in spring
The ice cream van comes rushing down
The curvy street
And you do feel
A twitch inside-
Step forward and buy
With a beaming smile on your face
A scoop of
Vanilla ice cream

He looked up into the grey sky
and decided: it's not time yet, I got time
and, shakig off the cold, massaging his hands,
he said: it should rhyme.

And thus he began:

To fabricate the best amongst all the poems -
that is what I will do, and forget about the rest
and the empty phrases
that fill no cup and no page.

To make you wonder, and frown
and think: who is this?
This master of words, of letters,
What kind of bliss
is he blessed with?

Then also: to make you remember
my name and my word,
and the fame that so uplifted
my thoughts.

And: to remind you
of my soul and bones
when I shall be gone, and not long after that,
you will build a statue
of stone.

But before all that I will-
I must-
I should-

But where shall I begin?
Where shall I
begin?

And you will put down your paper, your pen,
you will sigh, and know: all this was only a revery.
Then you will stand up, undress, stand naked in front of the mirror-
and dance.

A golden blanket wrapped
around you
Her words
I will always be with you
and you begin to accept
their feeling true

A golden
Scale
Reflects
From where it lies
There in the stream
A gleaming
Single
Ray of light
Directs it so that
It
Precisely
Hits
The iris
Of my resting eye
And
By its
Sheer power
Makes me
Shiver

What you call
imagination, Dear
I simply call it
memory