The dark months, the time of light.

From November to March in Norway, the day seems to have no middle, only a pale dawn melting into a dazzling twilight.

You would think the colors would fade, but the deep tender sky shades the world in the softest jewel tones.

Despite the cool clutch of winter, there are still people in the woods on Sundays, breathing the scent of wet Evergreens mingled with the hot coffee in their flasks.

In the woods there are kind words for everyone, people pause, nod their heads at each other, and smile.

The day ends early during the winter months, soon towns and hamlets are left in darkness, but the stars are even more luminous in the inky sky, and in the winter stillness you can hear the sea from miles away keening capriciously like a choir of mer-people gathering to keep away the cold.

They say darkness robs the world of color, but this is not true. On a black canvas even the smallest light shines like a thousand suns, and as that dancing light brushes through the land it bleeds a generous mosaic of blues, pinks, greens and amber, creating a perpetual witching hour lasting all through winter. And what, pray tell, can be more enchanting than that?

Are you grateful ?

Do you feel gratitude towards the light?
Towards the air you breathe?
Are you grateful for summer breezes,
Wildflower hills and little islands dotted
With nesting seagulls?
Are you appreciating every sunrise
And every starlit night?
Thanking the earth every day
For giving you life?

Hope for another generation

The same life force that birthed you
Will rise the sea
Towards heaven.
Homesickness will pilgrim and divide
Into droplets sailing
On cloud-waves
Home.
To be reborn as rain,
To nourish Heaven’s artistry
With oceans, with flowers
Carried on dreamers’ wings,
Projecting hope
For another generation.

If you want to be a wildflower

Guard over your life,
Let your dreams’ pastures grow
In the nourishment of sunny days.
Ward off vultures and aggressive scavengers.
But let a little rain drizzle through
The days of your life if you want
To be a wildflower and grow
Wherever the wind’s planted you.

The fullness of life

The fullness of life
Is like the vast ocean’s depth;
Unexplored and wistful,
Like our idea of a god turning
The hands of time and
Offering a perception of life
That we reach for,
But never fully
Grasp.