It really helps if the range of your curiosity exceeds the diameter of your tunnel vision.
Category: Poetry
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Love and fog
I would like to make you a present of fog.
This fog, surrounding us now.
It makes our world small, hiding everything further than arm’s length,
yet things disappear in it so softly and smoothly –
there is no possible way to define the border,
there is no horizon,
there is no end.
It is vague and cosy – a down-soft infinity.
Join me.
I would like to make you a present of this light,
a sudden splash of colour in the fog,
defining the piercing beauty of a tree-branch,
its intricate form alone in a sea of shapelessness –
the sudden joy of discovery.
Gasp with me.
I would like to make you a present of my world,
of all that I learned over the years,
patiently collecting shapes and colours,
thoughts and feelings,
moulding them together,
creating something unique and precious.
Look at me.
But you can only have your gift returned so many times
before you finally realise that this person REALLY doesn’t want a silver toast rack.
And that a silver toast rack is all that you have to give.
The fog condenses into tears on my cheeks
and evaporates in the bright sunlight. -
Laughter fits in-between
In the narrow space
between the burning heat of the depths and the cold fires of space
laughter is the bravest way to be. -
Archetypes
Fireworks over the lake –
fairytale magic at bargain prices,
illusion underlying reality.
They make skies darker and waters – deeper.
They raise archetypes from the depth, to loom in the dark.
Do they frighten or comfort?
Or both?
You see with your mind,
you hear with your mind,
you feel with your mind.
What is more real – the ephemeral lights or the everlasting fears,
passed from generation to generation in blood and stories?
There is no way to tell,
but there is a choice. -
The girl and the sea
The world you know is inside your head.
By definition.
Snug and warm inside.
Your room, your toys, your books, your lamp –
as always lit with dim and cozy light,
the outside reflected and repeated,
a melody with no discordant notes
to irritate or frighten.
Rhythm of life.
And then, there is the sea.
It’s just as rhythmic,
but outside.
Emphatically foreign,
indifferent, ineffable, intruding –
intriguing and frightening.
It’s here.
Its presence undeniable,
its noise –
persistent, if not loud.
It is here.
You have a choice:
retreat or take a dive?
