The Summer Sea

The summer sea is a mirror

you dive into,

a coral mirage gushing

into rivers,

fleeing slowly into gardens

where carnations dream

of anemones dizzily

racing towards the surface

of the summer sea

where you kneel on a cliff

looking into

yourself.

The Darling buds of May

May has been, to be honest, quite a challenging month. A mad world has gone madder, and what we all thought was just a turbulent phase in our history seems to really have turned into the dreaded “New Normal”, where fear, avoidance and suspicion dictate much of our daily behavior towards each other.

It has me worried. Worried about what this will mean for our individual mental health and our world view as well as the collective human psyche. I am worried about how this will reflect in our political decisions and international relations.

But no matter how worried I am, the world goes on, life goes on, following its natural course, and May is the month of blossoming of new life, brighter colors and warmer days (at least in the part of the world where I live).

It is a comfort to see the beauty in new buds and in the greening of leaves and birds returning happily from their winter vacation. It feels so normal. Not “New Normal”, just normal. And that is what I need now.

To see and to feel and to experience life the way I’m used to, the way I know and that makes me feel safe, secure and hopeful. And that is why I am dedicating this post to: “The Darling Buds of May”.

Quiet, hushed, we grow, we heal

Quiet, hushed, we grow, we heal,

We learn to understand

That everything is touched by time

And time must run its course.

Quiet, hushed, we grow, we heal,

We carry our souls like a torch.

We mind our spark, we balm our wounds,

We bring our courage forth.

And when time is right we rise again

To reclaim our newfound worth.

Still the Love in your Heart

Still the love in your heart, make it real quiet,
So that it doesn’t go to waste.
Throw it not into the chasm of self-doubt.
I am here, your dance partner
On unsolid surface.
We’ll pedal together despite our spindly legs,
We’ll wobble on blessings if we have to
But we’ll never quite aim
for the river bank.