Poems

 

 

 

 

 

At the gate

When the mind´s arcs
are running out as tears
at the gates of the soul,
angels are waiting.
With open arms they welcome
seekers of motherland
who are lost in the forest with tic-tac bells
where stones are turned out to metal
and unnaturals has forgotten to be the treasures of travellers.

Water rises up from the flow
to praise the heavens
to admire the clouds
who reach to offer food for the hungry
from the banquet table of the air flow
with new containers.

No one wants to be away
from that moment.

No one whom has dared to swallow the silver
of the mirrors reflection.
or whom has drunk their own outlines from the water level.
To be as who you are
is the strongest evidence of being human.

That is when the identity of all the wounds are revealed
and all the odysseys will get their names
at the chain of the memories.
Every meaningful meeting and abandonment
will rest in peace within the furrows of the hands.

That is time when hair
can flutter in the air
and it will bring dew drops for the skin.
Is it only this life
between birth and death?
Or did there appear a living plant after all?

Yes,
the wind brought a seed for the cold water.
Dew gave a birth for it
and the heat fostered it for ownership.
To be in everyone´s lips as in meeting.
To be a guide for travelers of midnight.

To encourage those who are hiding in darkness,
the composer for those who have forgotten the songs of their names.

This entire is one of the victories of brightness
at the celebration of the starry sky and solar system.

 

Hunters of the ages

And those hunters of ages,
with dead wings to fly.
They rose as rattling ghosts
to appetize their ownership.

Wind blowed and tree handed over the blossom,
wrost got to the ground and raised it´s breath.
In order to be free to hear;
I got What the true heart sings as free.

Fairies were sitting on moisted hair,
Wiping sweat quietly, realizing:
”Drink the characteristics of your image out your palms.
Be your own master in every moment.

Sing it hard pressed notes,
sprinkle it quietly to the ways of wind.
As it is time to give away a chain you got;
Then it´s time to let the new birth for the leaves on your palms.

You will feel the messages of your hearing,
you can see the touch of your own heart.
It´s yours, the right, here and now.
The moment and the life in you
and you are free choose without the guards.”

 

 

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