There is little left, as if all the snow
has melted, all the birds unwinged,
fallen angels, lovers lost in agony,
their song is echoed by the water
now that keeps on pouring in my
home land, o, there is little left, a
treetop reaching out, six thousand
rings that lead to this, o, there is
little left, all has melted, lovers lost.
Poetry In Motion
Power Of Flow
WombEnclosed I roam from star to star, I travel endlessly, I whisper and my breath unfolds behind me as a vale, a shooting star, a comet on its way and growing, growing with each lightyear passing by, O yes, there is much pleasure in this roaming , it is creation of a Master Plan and still this roaming is continuing, and when from time to time I reach the boundaries of my confinement, I feel a sudden shiver, as if some unseen hand is there to push me back, or could it be the vale behind that keeps on coming back, I wonder. So here I am, inside and out, no matter how the journey goes, there always will be worlds to enter and others then to leave behind, the roaming will continue , on and on, no ending, no beginning, so is the roaming in the Womb of Being, the cavern of His Master’s Plan.
Listen To The Music
- aarde adem afscheid Ave Maria breathe bron death dood eye geboorte golf hart heart hemel herinnering I i ching Ik I Tjing Jij kijken kind leven Licht liefde lippen love Maria Mary moeder moederschoot moedertaal nacht ocean ontwaken oorlog Our Lady paradise peace pijn pray prayer school schoot sea silence snow soul source spiegel stem ster sterven stilte taal teken toeval tranen U verdriet verhaal verlangen vreugde vuur wachten water wind wolken womb woord woorden zee ziel zijn zon
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