Exist on the edge

Sometimes
I wish to hide away from the strong rays of the Sun,
from the deep shadows of the night,
from the powerful grab of the wind.
Sometimes I wish I would exist only on the edge...

I would be patient.
Though my coat would fly away,
I would be everlasting.
Others would despise me.

Their wings flow away with the cold of ice.
I would land on the heavy surface of the water.
That would be my moment.
For ever.



.

The Horizon is

... an illusion.

what you see through eyes closed

what you do not remember in the noon

when you do not breathe

when your heart misses a beat

more than you can see

more than you can think of

your belief before your first cry

all your feelings after the last night

space in an almighty moment

time in a broken glass-shell





.

Journey through the night

After a Bach-flower theraphy.

She is sleeping.
A deep, vibrating sleep.

She is having a lot of cats,
quite little ones.
They are approximately 4 months old.
There are grey, calico, black-and-white and some other patterned among them.
The kittens are asking for food.

And she gathers them around, from the hall to the garden,
where they got their meal.
Just outside the door.
They are following her.
To their food.
There are a lot of kitten, very much of cats.

Another scene:

She is grinding pepper with the grinder I gave her for last christmas.
No, with the smaller one.
But in her dream it was bigger.
It got big drawer.
Which was full of pepper.

She doesn't stop.
She is grinding the pepper.
After a long, long time,
she pulls the drawer out.

The pepper is pouring from the drawer,
and she spills the grounded pepper to her hands.
There is a great amount of it.
Her hands are full of the grinded pepper.

She throws it into the pot on the sofa.
Yes the pot is on the sofa.
She is sitting on the sofa with a chopping board in her lap.
This board is brown with white edges.

While grinding, she is talking to the family.
Trying to persuade somebody from something.
Trying to make them believe the truth.
They could not be seen properly, but she feels their presence.


-------------------------------------

Feeding.

She is dreaming about the role of the alma mater, the feeding mother.

Two groups are to be fed.
The little cats and the human, the family.

The cats are tiny and numerous, and are present.
They are fed perfectly,
but they are to be outside the house.

The family is also present.
Their food is full of herb, full of emotion.
The persuasion...
It is full of will, ful of intention.
The feeders emotion is flowing through the food,
and indirectly for the family members.

There are a lot of unconscious living creature who follow her.
To make her feed them.
Whilst the family is argue with her.

Ultimate Freedom

Blueness of the sky is always seducting, the illusion of the infinite...

However it is only the border of the Earth.
A carrier of limits.

Still it always remained the symbol of freedom, the promise of escaping from reality.

A small insect starts to take off to the frightening heights,
tirelessly to the heaven.


.

Untitled

An aim without the ability to see...

A decision without the knowledge to choose...

A departure without being able to move...




Where do our actions lead us?

What is behind the mind's curtain?

What is behind all of this:
our existence, desires, knowledge, faith, fears and happiness?



A trick of space and time...

Maybe...

I wonder,

Sometimes I wish I could see into the distance.

A road to immortality...

Treshold to the infinite



May the beginning
see the fate of
rebirth.
May we feel
the magnitude of
an empty bottle
in the edge of the
universe.


A look from your still
thoughts
cannot ever open the
door
which leads to your
deepest desire.



Infinite ways,
exhausted dreams,
frame of death
runs to the path
of he unknown.
That is flying cannons:
the road to immortality.




2005.11.08.

Draw me a path I could follow

Next Step



I am waiting
with you
altogether
for the same
in the misty quay
for a ship
to come
and take me
take me away
do not want to
step forward
let the ship go
lead my soul
my body
and my feelings
I will throw
all away I
will not need them
but still
I am clenching
tiny bags
inside they rest
their mouth shut
tightly
never let the knot
unravel
I am holding
my death
carried by the ship
my life goes
to the eternal home
of hers
to stillness.





2005.11.07.

What have I been, what did I become...

Realizing the fact, that we are not aware of our 'being before birth',
and therefore we have absolutely no idea of our presumed existence after death:

it is a sort of shock in the continuity of our awakening consciousness.

On the other hand, it is a need.

Because only knowing this are we able to live a responsible life,
to know its value,
and after passing the treshold: live in happiness.

However it is a matter of each people's habitat,
that one can get through all this recognition
with a whole, undamaged soul,
or with a blind and broken mind.

For Life couldn't be replayed.


Could it be?

...




.

Reflections...

Can we cope with the inner darkness?

Can we say what is it at all?

Besides the tremor from the fear of midnight what is it that draws us to the torch-light?

Are we the moths of the universe?

Always seeking the stars in the moonlit sky,

and the galaxy in the deep of a waterdrop's microcosm...

"re·flec·tion (r-flkshn)
n.
1. The act of reflecting or the state of being reflected.
2. Something, such as light, radiant heat, sound, or an image, that is reflected.
3.
a. Mental concentration; careful consideration.
b. A thought or an opinion resulting from such consideration."

from:

http://www.thefreedictionary.com/reflection

Book of my origin...

I was born in the endless whirl of light.
Seeking the Sun, that my coat of deep red flesh have been hiding from me, guarding me from the harsh reality of nakedness.
Which I knew I would discover some day.
No matter how many days I will have to wait...
...or months , or even years inside the womb of soil.

There was time when my motionless journey through seasons fixed me into contemplating my solitude;
sleeping inside my walls of seed, which were both armor and prison for me.
I was waiting alone inside my shelter, and the small bits of the unseen sky were falling on the roof of my dark home of soil.
But then, the music of rain and hail awoke me from my infinite slumbers.
Arouse my hidden germ and stimulated my unknown will to emerge from the deep of the ground.

The time changed and stretched.
In a short time I became aware of the many things I only known before from the silent whispers of the red skin of my coat.
But I don't have it now...
I never understood where it came from, or what did it became.
The red coat quietly disappeared.

And there I was: a fully grown tree in the midst of the world.

The Sun did finally find me...