We can stumble in mists of doubt,
Like rowing boats on the deep blue sea.
But we always know that there are islands somewhere,
Where pinks grow and seabirds guard their nests.
How can we then really ever be lost?
In my life I have walked through fire,
Been burnt down to ashes to give nourishment
To another spring, to another Summer,
To beauty and first loves.
Perhaps we are all planets
Carrying a hundred thousands seeds of life
Within our resilience.
This is the raw earthlight in the winter twilight:
A dusty burn, murky blue,
The shadow of a night bird
On patches of snow.
Dreams and melancholy colliding
With frozen cobwebs.
A heart stumbling in between sturdy tree trunks
Looking for stillness and consolation