The Tree

…

For a long time I wanted to see you again,
my old childhood friend.
There were some things I wanted to tell you
and I knew you would understand.

Cutting Loose

It was a Michael Jackson concert, somewhere in Europe in the 80s, and the people around me went wild. They danced, they screamed, and they let go of whatever they had bottled up inside. Yet, I couldn’t.

I enjoyed the concert. I clapped, I sang, and I moved to the music, but I never let loose.

Softly Falls The Snow

Softly falls the snow,
Quiet and frozen rests the lake.
Christmas-like sparkles the forest:
Rejoice! The Christkind* will soon be here.

Song Lyrics – “No, I Will Not Give My Sons”

A friend in Germany sent me the link to a song, and I would like to share it with all my blogging friends. The lyrics are in German, sung by many famous European artists who all decided to not ask for any kind of pay or reimbursement to be able to participate in this powerful arrangement.

Where Did My Summer Go?

In January, I started posting about “My 12 new months of purpose” -as so often full of plans, looking into the future with high expectations. I enjoyed writing my monthly reports until June, when there was just not much to reveal.

Where Did May Go?

It seems the universe will never stop interfering with my plans, and life itself doesn’t seem to take me and my goals too seriously either. My well-meant intent to use the new year for 12 months of change and purpose has now somehow become more of a monthly reminder of how many of my plans, dreams, and goals I never achieve, due to interruptions I didn’t plan on.

20 Little Pills in April

How can 20 harmless-looking pills have such an impact? How do they manage to put so much power into something so small? Listening to my body is not an easy task.

It’s time

Far in the Champagne in midsummer green
where poppy bloom between grave crosses
the grasses whisper and sway gently
in the wind, that gently sweeps over the graveyard

Let it Go

I just spent virtually 1 minute and 38 seconds in a bomb shelter in Ukraine. Tears are running down my cheeks listening to the song from the Disney movie ‘Frozen’.

Beautiful Ukraine

When you clean your weapon
When time and again, you clean your weapon
When you rub strong-smelling oils into your weapon
And shield it from the rain with your own body
When you swaddle it like a baby
Even though you’ve never swaddled a baby before —
You’re only nineteen, no baby, no wife —
The weapon becomes your only kin
You and the weapon are one.