As a longing—quivering flames

As a longing—

Quivering flames—

The healing idea appears,

Its irradiency

Burns through human misery

Cleansing the heart 

Making it pure and the thought crystal clear.

I find Love never absent, then—

A glimpse 

Of goodness so near!

I know how ever long it takes

Fear and sadness must flee—

I exist.

That is enough!  

Within my mind the windows of meaning...

Within my mind the windows of meaning
Open wide—to the day I sought—
And I look out to see what Life has made:

No useful idea too deep
          Or hidden to understand,
No useful idea too lofty
          Or too high,
No useful idea as would carry
          An overbearing burden!

A useful idea is to unfold,
          No matter how long it may take...
                         
Who does not know the endless arguments?

It is better to do nothing contrary to ones’
Highest sense of good!

I will be ready for the winds,
They will blow, be merciless!
                       
From the sea will come a mighty rain
And wash the earth clean of the dust
And soak the dry, thirsty ground!
The herb-bearing seeds will grow
And grow— fruit as the flowers!

Behold!  The trees
Will cover the face of the earth—
How pleasant
And satisfying to our sight!

 Is that just my poetic nature speaking?


Inspired by the Book of Genesis

I breath in the air...

I breathe in the air,

It is full of rain—

Wet!

A blueish flower 

Is bending towards me yet

So still—

Gently it says, „Can you come near me?

I am not stuck up… I’m in my place, please

Come very close, and you 

May learn of my dreaming!“

Beautiful rose,

You grow and bloom

Wherever the land and the water is!

Glow and I’ll breathe in your

Sweet fragrance

That is floating by in the cool breeze,

A fragrance all of your own,

So you too

Will rest after the sun

Has gone down,

Be refreshed

When a little bird greets 

A new day…

EMH June 2020, Rev. August 2021

I breathe in the air
It is full of rain
Wet!
A blueish flower is bending towards me
So still—solitary at midday!
Gently I say, „Ah, can I come near you?
I am not stuck up… I’m in my place, please
Let me come very close,
And you can learn of my dreaming—
If it  is not inclusive, then know, it’s nothing! —
Beautiful rose,
You grow and bloom
Wherever the land and the water is!
Glow and I’ll breathe in your
Sweet fragrance
That is floating by in the cool breeze,
A fragrance all of your own,
So you too
Can rest after the sun
Has gone down,
Until a little bird greets a new day…“
Early noon—
Overhead the sun shines brightly again.

June 2020

The sea breeze smells like a wheat field

The sea breeze
Smells like a wheat field,
I rise near the shore.
It‘s elemental within me.
Cornflowers bring the beauty of many years!
Noiselessly swinging their heads,
Giving me their hearts —and
Grace to my days!
I behold the Essence in their faces,
And in mine.
This is called a broad view,
The sameness of intent …

Variations On a Symbol — “Ah, the curtain...”

Ah, the curtain, 

I see it hiding your deep 

visceral emotion, 

a genuine empathy 

of your heart’s unseen 

but for now 

stranded notions.

The voice of Love

gently flies over the waters, 

gently sounds on the strand, 

gently fills the sky 

and lifts its darkness. 

I smell the rain, 

its freshness, 

not a flood 

but gently pouring. 

O little love-bird, 

let Love winged

still your unrest 

that toils to weave 

a warm nest 

waiting,

waiting on the sand, 

yet waiting 

in its gloom of love consumed.

From the deep sources of your mood 

see the clouds moving, 

see a ribbon of blue sky shining through! 

Dear heart! What is the silent torment, 

what makes you pining? 

Little one, shake your feathers

and join the skylark's upward rising!

Cornflowers

cornflowers—
each blossom
a single thought
of peace—beauty
and love—
ah, mine soul shines!

A child walkIng along the beach--

A child walking

along the beach—

who follows it?

How are we to understand

those who have only rocks

weighing on their hearts?

Are oblivious to a soft light

touching the grass?

Hate and scorn

bring tears to my eyes,

labor to my steps…

Does not innocence deserve

care and kindness by

those who follow its

imprint in the sand?