I drove you, drove you in my car,
you were young, so young, yet
million years away, the day was
(as is this day, it is young too)
it had the promise of a yesterday
embedded in its Womb,
and there You were,
I drove you, I drove you through
a million journeys, music all around,
I saw you, I saw you in my car,
and you were not alone,
a scent of you is all you left,
a million, million miles away,
I never thought that from afar
I would reach out,
a hesitating thought,
a mesmerizing youth so full of life,
I watch you, watch you from afar,
I scent you, scent you in my car
a million times, one million maybe
more, that’s all there is,
it’s more than ever dreamt of,
I dream you, dream you in my car,
this thought of you is penetrating,
incense, a million ways, more journeys,
I want you, I want you in my life,
a million times,
one million,
maybe more

(Aarschot, Belgium, Church Our Lady, Tuesday September 22nd, 2015, 13:01)


No dream has ever been the same,
they came and went as ocean waves,
horizons took the shape of trees,
the sheets to all their floating leaves,
each time I walked down memory beach,
each wave returned taking the best of me,
the more I begged for repetition, the more
I lost to season’s tidings, tracks washed away,
forgotten words embracing forests, abandoned
children craving for a home, no dream has ever
been the same, but still , when sleep is overtaking,
I wake up to new beginnings, and faintly in between
a scent is left, one wave leaving the nest, the uplift of
a memory looking for shelter, a shoulder for the coming
storm, one womb becoming then the home land of oblivion.

(picture taken @ Wissant, Nord-Pas de Calais, France)

Dreaming Heart ~ Corazòn Soñando

(Poem in 7 languages)

Corazòn soñando (Espanol)

Un sueño no es ningùn secreto,
ningùn tesoro para conservar
en solitario en un sòtano, no,
es Madre, son Almas Gemelas,
que sigue repitiendo sir parar,
rogandole que le exponga
en el cuarto del Corazòn
para que asì Padre, el innato
deseo del Hermano pueda
revelarse sin dolor.

Del-e Khabi (Farsi)

Khab chize ghajimi nist, na gandj
ke baiast ghajem kand dar amari na,
Maudar-e, khabare roh ke bedone
kafi bar migarde, da-ah mikone
dar draghe del ke be hame betone
neskon bede ke pedar, baradar
yek areroje be donja omaderan
neskon bede.

Dromend Hart (Nederlands)

Een droom is geen geheim, noch schat om
eenzaam te bewaren in een kelderkamer,
nee, het is Moeder, Zuster Ziel die zich
onophoudelijk blijft  herhalen, bidden
hem in de kamer van het Hart tentoon
te spreiden zodat Vader, Broeders ingeboren
wens, zich moeiteloos kan openbaren

Coeur Rêvant (Français)

Un rêve n’est ni secret, ni trésor
à conserver en solitaire dans une cave,
non, c’est Mère, Âme soeur, répétant
continuellement, priant s’ouvrir au fond du coeur
de sorte que Père, l’inné désir de Frère,
puisse se révéler sans peine.

Dreaming Heart (English)

A dream is not a secret, nor a treasure
to be hidden in a solitary cellar room,
no, it is Mother, Sister Soul continually
beating, begging for unfolding in Heart’s room,
so that Father, Brother’s innate
desire, is able to reveal effortlessly

Traumend Herz (Deutsch)

Ein Traum ist kein Geheimnis, noch Schatz
um einzam zu bewaren in einem Kellerzimmer,
nein, es ist Mutter, Schwester Seele die unaufhörlich
wiederholen bleibt, beten ihr im Zimmer Herzens
zu verbeiten so des Vaters Wunsch, der Brüder
angeborenen, sich mühelos öffentlich zeigen kan.

Marzace Serce (Polski)

Marzenie nie jest sekretem a ni Skarbem,
Które samotnie chowa sie, w piwnicy,
Nie, to jest Matke, Dusza siostrzana,
Powtarzajac sie bez Konca w glebi serca
i modlac Jako Ojciec, wrodzone pozadanie
Brata moze marzenie sie objawic

(comments appreciated in case of mistranslations 😉 )


In the forest of my dreams some leaves
are wandering, I wonder whether they
will walk me home, from tree to tree I
keep on walking but the snow keeps
coming in, as if an unseen hand is there
to cover all my thoughts, to sleep is to
return, then I see you, I close my eyes
now, it is time to pray, O, walk with me,
to be a leave and wander through these
woods, sweet fragrance of a lullaby, O,
come with me and I will sing to wake you
up, from tree to tree then walk with me
and when we reach the mountaintop
then dream with me, so to the forest we
will be as to the snow these wandering

(picture: Heverlee Forest, Belgium)

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