Memories are like treasures buried in your mind.
The more you look at them and hold them,
The more polished will they appear, until they one day
Outshine the reality that birthed them.
To me, this is a reasonable magic that lets our life story
Shine just a little bit more beautifully.
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
Nailed to the sky with silver bolts,
Stilled of flickering but burning bright
In the quiet of winter nights,
Promising a dance partner
Made of stars.
Last night my soul walked barefooted
Amongst stars and left a sketch of wingspan
On my heart.
But today when I woke up it was shrouded
In thick morning mist.
So I had to take my life for a walk to the sea
To see it reflected there on bouncing
Silver currents heading towards land.
In the feathered sound of the sea
I heard a glimmer of myself
Dancing with someone else
Behind a blue veil of years and distance
An unchiseled memory carved
By the tips of wings rose in the shadow
Of the sun.
My windbeaten dreams were once so fragile,
I wanted to feed the silence with words.
But now I see that it is behind
those beautifully shaped summer clouds;
When chased away by a winters storm,
The night is revealed,
And the heart of dreams
shaped in constellations of faraway light.
Strength is not boisterous and unyielding,
It is a faraway light resting in a constellation
Only a small insignificant human being
can see the true shape of.
Clouds rise from the sea,
Something whispers in swirls of shining lies:
Moon after moon mirrored in shivers of blue.
A life has been poured tenderly into a watery mould:
The feather of a Sunbird making its way to the sky.
It is always that which leaves without a trace
That is remembered the longest.
