Home

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?

Advertisements

A new dream

A new dream plants its roots in me,
With alluring scent and sunny thoughts,
And suddenly I can hear the wind’s lyrics.
The sky is mastering Earth
And there is an echo of wings
Flying away.