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The first little story I ever wrote – which grew into a book

The Dreaming Path

The Day Moon Met the Raven

A man who had for some time been travelling the road in all weathers, sat down at the roadside under a sheltering tree. His jacket was richly embroidered but his leather boots were dusty and worn from long walking. He had little coin in his purse but his pouch was full of papers covered with poems and interesting thoughts gathered here and there. He was tired, too tired to even be capable of assessing his own mood at that moment. He was, he thought, probably content.

As the sun sank and dusk fell he looked up and saw the moon rise and he realised that it was the Autumn Equinox, when the length of the day and the night, darkness and light, are equal. As he relaxed and watched the moon climb higher into the sky his mind drifted and he began to assess…

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Words without Eyes

Words without Eyes are filling the room
Marching around us like soldiers out of duty
Occupying corners , shutting all windows and doors
Swirling, dancing, jumping and stumping
Their grotesque shadows are covering all walls.

I want to stop them, open their eyes, make them see me
Shake them aware of my suffocating pain and grief
But they keep coming , merciless, flowing all over me
Pushing me down at any mine attempt of escape
I scream for help but my pale lips are sealed and dead.

Holding me firmly in an ice cold loving embrace
They glide over my body searching for wounds
They find one recent and slide through it inside me
Stinging, destroying, raging and devouring
I grasp for some air and slowly close my own eyes now :

Silence.

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Innocence

When innocence is lost
Birds sings quieter in the garden
And flowers disclose their frail petals.

When innocence is lost
Fragrant earth becomes grey sticky mud
And waves start to scour mercilessly the shore.

When innocence is lost
The prince returns to be just one funny frog
And his Lady resembles a noisy ugly toad .

When innocence is lost
I close my eyes really tight shouting silent words
And then I sail away into the west.

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What is it

What is it

That makes lovers whisper silly words all through the night.

What is it

That makes the painter rush home to paint the girl he met.

What is it

That makes the poet forget his dinner under the rain of words.

What is it

That makes the baby find her mother’s breasts while sleeping.

What is it

That makes that tough boy smile when he recalls his first kiss .

What is it

That makes my lover run into the night when I’m gone asleep .

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A Love Story ~ Rosa & Arjuna

The Dreaming Path

Two lovers
separated
by the stretch
of open ocean
endless sky
moonlight passing
day to night

Arjuna’s window pointed west
While Rosa’s looked out to the east
Of their love they both were sure

Only water lay between them
Only time would be the test
Whether love could long endure

They had vowed to watch the moon
Each one in their lonely room
Far apart, but close in heart

They watched the silver face
Passing in and out of sight
Held aloft in lovely light

Counting moons
The months passed by
In time Rosa ceased to cry
She had now become enamoured
Of watching starlit nights
And changing skies

Counting moons
The years passed by
Arjuna drowned his tears in books
Slowly he began to write
He described the stars
And all the glories of the night

He described all she saw
As they watched the sky together
Together yet so…

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Into the West

Every morning, when I wake up and go to my kitchen the first thing I do is look out of the window towards the sea. In this winter months the sea usually looks like a big dark jelly . Sometimes quiet, some other times shaken by the wind. There are mornings though that this darkness gets replaced by the most beautiful silver shine on the sea. Like this last nights. My window looks towards West North – West. This last few nights in the middle of my kitchen window there was the moon, big and round. Smiling, she was greeting me face to face. While I would be preparing my first tea she would be slowly sinking into the cuddling sea. The following morning I came down the same time like every other morning, 4.45 sharp and was surprised that the shining  face of the moon shifted more to the west. This time she was stumbling over the roof of the harbor master to find her final rest in the arms of the sea. Yesterday the moon sunk inside of the harbor master building, finding nautical maps and for sure already pondering where to go next. The sea she was laying with in her sleep was calm, too calm for her. She is like one exploring child, needing challenges to learn more. Today, when I came to my kitchen window the moon was hiding behind the trees of the forest in the natural park, more to the west. Making me lean over the counter to be able to see her glorious shining face. Tomorrow, when I shall go to prepare my early morning tea I shall be alone. The moon will be gone deeper into that forest, tickled by the long branches of the bare winter trees. She will be gone into the west. One cannot hold the moon on the same place. One can try to follow her and enjoy her shine while she is passing by, but inevitably she will move further and the dark will return. Until the sun arrives. Luckily less volatile the the moon, the sun comes every morning to start the new day. The light comes back and shadows are gone. The Nature around us keeps amazing me with it’s logic simplicity. Just as Life. Futile to kick own head against the window in search of the light of the gone moon. It doesn’t bring her back. Much easier is to accept the simple cycles of the light and darkness, and adjust to the rhythm of the unchangeable Nature.

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Silver Moon

Silver Moon

I woke up one morning and the sun was all red
Stains of tears and lies were left on the bed.
Thousands of knives had forced my eyes to open
My thoughts were all pierced and ached as shred.

I gathered my strength and started to walk
He asked me questions but I could not talk.
I went to the forest and wished to be lost
The silence was heavy and forced me to balk.

I followed the path in search of the night
Sudden caw of one craw gave me the fright.
I looked above me and the moon was all silver
There was a trace ahead all shining and bright.

My feet were bare and covered with sand
Silver dust was glowing shyly on my hand.
I heard a sound and knew without a doubt
This path will be ending on one unknown strand.

Crystal grains on my skin reflected the Moon
In distance I heard the faint call of a Loon.
My limbs were tired and i went to lay down
My strength ebbed away and I fell into a swoon.

I woke up enchanted by the rhythm of the waves
The sea at my feet was wild and for the braves.
I slid all the clothes down my delicate body
Dark lines on my skin left by the cruel knives.

I was laying on the sand exposed and alone
My fears took over and turned me into a stone.
With the last of my forces I reopened the eyes
I smiled to the vision of one creature that shone.

You came from the sea, magic glow on the hair
The eyes felt gentle and your skin was fair.
You touched my face and recognized the bond
Took me by the hand and led to your lair.
~     *      ~
Enraptured by  the gentle and noble whispers of the Western wind
You made me yours forever on the bed of the softest tamarind.
While the scent of the wild flowers was quietly l soothing our aching love
You laid the sweetest kiss on my rosy cheek and we promised to stay forever kind.

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Old Shell

Old shell

Empty shell covered with wrinkles
Pearl shine brushed away by winds and tears.
Drops of memories dried by layers of sand.
Sad eyes looking blindly over my shoulders.
I stop and stretch one arm forward.
Touching the white unnourished locks.
Sudden rush of images inside dead eyes.
A smile between the drapes looks surreal.
little sound comes out of the bottomless cavern.
Fragile like the fairies wings
Sparkling like children voices on the snow.
Just one smile, filled with tender memories.
Short.
Gone.
Silence is back inside the empty shell.