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i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

~ e.e. cummings ~

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"Es ist immer das Notwendige, was uns zufällt." (Max Frisch)

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Just keep going

---
God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.

These are words we dimly hear:
 You, sent out beyond your recall,
 go to the limits of your longing.
 Embody me.

 Flare up like flame
 and make big shadows I can move in.

 Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
 Just keep going.  No feeling is final.
 Don't let yourself lose me.

 Nearby is the country they call life.
 You will know it by its seriousness.

 Give me your hand.
 
~ Rainer Maria Rilke ~

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My new homeland offers nearly everything I longed for. Most important for me are the countless creeks in the close surroundings, and a gorgeous river: the Emme which has its source a couple of kilometers from my home.

The stonemen above were built in the Emme's river bed. I spent a whole afternoon there, playing with the stones like a child with toy blocks: lost in a world of pure magic...

It was the first time since my return from Greece in May 2010 that I was able to enter the magic world beyond consciousness, and to devote myself copletely to the innermost which for me is the inexhaustible source of creativity, love, and healing.
---

Let It Be Forgotten

dedicated to C

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Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten,
Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold.
Let it be forgotten forever and ever,
Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.

If anyone asks, say it was forgotten
Long and long ago,
As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed footfall
In a long-forgotten snow.

~ Sara Teasdale ~

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With the face goes a mirror

With the face goes a mirror
As with the mind a world.
Likeness tells the doubting eye
That strangeness is not strange.
At an early hour and knowledge
Identity not yet familiar
Looks back upon itself from later,
And seems itself.

To-day seems now.
With reality-to-be goes time.
With the mind goes a world.
Wit the heart goes a weather.
With the face goes a mirror
As with the body a fear.
Young self goes staring to the wall
Where dumb futurity speaks calm,
And between then and then
Forebeing grows of age.

The mirror mixes with the eye.
Soon will it be the very eye.
Soon will the eye that was
The very mirror be.
Death, the final image, will shine
Transparently not otherwise
Than as the dark sun described
With such faint brightnesses.

~ Laura Riding Jackson ~

phantom

"Truth," said a traveller,
"Is a rock, a mighty fortress;
Often have I been to it,
Even to its highest tower,
From whence the world looks black."

"Truth," said a traveller,
"Is a breath, a wind,
A shadow, a phantom;
Long have I pursued it,
But never have I touched
The hem of its garment."

And I believed the second traveller;
For truth was to me
A breath, a wind,
A shadow, a phantom,
And never had I touched
The hem of its garment.

~ Stephen Crane ~

light [in a dream]

Always we are following a light,
Always the light recedes; with groping hands
We stretch toward this glory, while the lands
We journey through are hidden from our sight
Dim and mysterious, folded deep in night,
We care not, all our utmost need demands
Is but the light, the light! So still it stands
Surely our own if we exert our might.
Fool! Never can'st thou grasp this fleeting gleam,
Its glowing flame would die if it were caught,
Its value is that it doth always seem
But just a little farther on. Distraught,
But lighted ever onward, we are brought
Upon our way unknowing, in a dream.

~ Amy Lowell ~

Don't Let Go // Sojourns in the Parallel World [Zwei Seelen, ach...!]

dedicated to C

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I can't believe this moment's come
It's so incredible that we're alone
There's so much to be said and done
It's impossible not to be overcome
Will you forgive me if I feel this way
Cuz we've just met - tell me that's OK
So take this feeling'n make it grow
Never let it - never let it go
(Dont let go of the things you believe in)
You give me something that I can believe in
(Dont' let go of this moment in time)
Go of this moment in time
(Don't let go of things that you're feeling)
I can't explain the things that I'm feeling
(Dont' let go)
No, I won't let go

Now would you mind if I bared my soul
If I came right out and said your'e beautiful
Cuz there's something here I can't explain
I feel I'm diving into driving rain
You get my senses running wild
I can't resist your sweet, sweet smile
So take this feeling'n make it grow
Never let it - never let it go

[Chorus:]
I've been waiting all my life
To make this moment feel so right
The feel of you just fills the night
So c'mon - just hold on tight

~ Bryan Adams ~

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We live our lives of human passions,
cruelties, dreams, concepts,
crimes and the exercise of virtue
in and beside a world devoid
of our preoccupations, free
from apprehension – though affected,
certainly, by our actions. A world
parallel to our own though overlapping.
We call it "Nature"; only reluctantly
admitting ourselves to be "Nature" too.
Whenever we lose track of our own obsessions,
our self-concerns, because we drift for a minute,
an hour even, of pure (almost pure)
response to that insouciant life:
cloud, bird, fox, the flow of light, the dancing
pilgrimage of water, vast stillness
of spellbound ephemerae on a lit windowpane,
animal voices, mineral hum, wind
conversing with rain, ocean with rock, stuttering
of fire to coal – then something tethered
in us, hobbled like a donkey on its patch
of gnawed grass and thistles, breaks free.
No one discovers
just where we've been, when we're caught up again
into our own sphere (where we must
return, indeed, to evolve our destinies)
– but we have changed, a little.

~ Denise Levertov ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ .

friends

Two of my three cats, 13 and 15 years old; sometimes, when I overlook the years we spent together, I think (and I feel and I know) that they are among the best friends I ever had.


My friends do not know.
But what could my friends not know?
About what? What friends?

~ James A. Emanuel ~

more than myself [selfreflexion]

Not that it was beautiful,
but that, in the end, there was
a certain sense of order there;
something worth learning
in that narrow diary of my mind,
in the commonplaces of the asylum
where the cracked mirror
or my own selfish death
outstared me...
I tapped my own head;
it was glass, an inverted bowl.
It's small thing
to rage inside your own bowl.
At first it was private.
Then it was more than myself.

~ Anne Sexton ~

The Play [selfreflexion]

I am the only actor.
It is difficult for one woman
to act out a whole play.
The play is my life,
my solo act.
My running after the hands
and never catching up.
(The hands are out of sight -
that is, offstage.)
All I am doing onstage is running,
running to keep up,
but never making it.

Suddenly I stop running.
(This moves the plot along a bit.)
I give speeches, hundreds,
all prayers, all soliloquies.
I say absurd things like:
egss must not quarrel with stones
or, keep your broken arm inside your sleeve
or, I am standing upright
but my shadow is crooked.
And such and such.
Many boos. Many boos.

Despite that I go on to the last lines:
To be without God is to be a snake
who wants to swallow an elephant.
The curtain falls.
The audience rushes out.
It was a bad performance.
That’s because I’m the only actor
and there are few humans whose lives
will make an interesting play.
Don’t you agree?

~ Anne Sexton ~

inverse world

On the other side of a mirror there's an inverse world,
where the insane go sane; where bones climb out of the
earth and recede to the first slime of love.

And in the evening the sun is just rising.

Lovers cry because they are a day younger, and soon
childhood robs them of their pleasure.

In such a world there is much sadness which, of course,
is joy.

~ Russell Edson ~

Ghost Shadow [selfreflexion]

she looks at the world from
another side of the window

her essence a sandy presence
before an astral stage curtain

elevator hallucinations
my mind caught
between piped ideas and
tea cloud beams

my heart waiting
with anticipation, struggling
with her nightmares

hour of solitary in meditation

I have looked into antiquity
to find her name waited for
her to show her self to me,

to disclose where I can find
her prediction, looking to
understand what is it that has
brought her here, what makes me
want to give my soul to her cause

I have told her I would
follow her wherever
she desires, to be with her,
our spirits as one
searching heavens eventide

looking to find the next
dimension, the meaning behind
death, before it’s too late

our souls binned outside life’s prisms,
her ghost shadow, waiting for me to
find the consequence of our purgatory

she looks at the world from
another side of the window

waiting for my resolve her love
comforting my soul, I would
destroy your world to free her

~ Joseph Mayo Wristen ~

fate [selfreflexion]

You may think, passer-by, that Fate
Is a pit-fall outside of yourself,
Around which you may walk by the use of foresight
And wisdom.
Thus you believe, viewing the lives of other men,
As one who in God-like fashion bends over an anthill,
Seeing how their difficulties could be avoided.
But pass on into life:
In time you shall see Fate approach you
In the shape of your own image in the mirror;
Or you shall sit alone by your own hearth,
And suddenly the chair by you shall hold a guest,
And you shall know that guest,
And read the authentic message of his eyes.

~ Edgar Lee Masters~