Barely touching the ground

I am a tree growing up-side down

My crown barely touching the ground

Just enough for little frightened birds

To seek shelter under from the eagles.

I am a tree growing up-side down

My roots securely fastened above.

But it is so far away…

It is unfair, I have realized that now,

Comparing all love to the one I am planted in.

No one will ever live up to it.

Maybe that is why I will always be just a little bit lonely.

They all say I am an Angel…

It rains when I cry; stars come out when I am alone.

Maybe that is why they mistake my leaves for wings.

But I am a tree growing up-side down

And I sprout beautiful flowers in the spring.

Otherwise, why on earth would I be here?

But don’t you realize… when you touch me…

Your touch reaches further than you think

And when you make me cry…

My tears come from somewhere far away…

So be gentle, be kind, and accept that I might always be

Just a little bit lonely… even with your arms around me.

I am a tree growing up-side down

My crown barely touching the ground

Just enough for you to reach

When you stand

on your toes.

Call to the Coast

August has been a restless month. A month of slow rivers, islanders and orchids. There has been travelling bookshops and art drawn in beach sand, Caramel Lattes and concert dresses.

August has always been, for me, a month of change. In Norway it is the last month of summer, a month of goodbyes and hellos, when new beginnings are lightly stepped into wearing new shoes perfect for walking in the rain.

Dreams, behind closed eyes and with eyes wide open, have been many. Angels and lovers, art shows and poetry and a quiet call to the darkening coast spilling summer colors all over the shoreline.

I have felt the wings of change gently brushing against my shimmering cheeks and know that something is coming. I think it is something good. The romantic endeavors of autumn leaves may bring us something we are unprepared for: Colors. And not the crayon kind. The kind that set the world awhirl with otherness.

All in all August has not let me rest despite its slow pace. So I have gathered a bunch of seashells and made art to pass the time until… Until the waves wash in and claim their beauty back to the sea. So buckle up people and keep a weather eye on that horizon of yours.