Well there it is: I’m speechless, I watch my breath
and it is empty, imagine clouds desperately looking
for a sky to populate, or birds lacking support to
spread their wings and fly, I’m speechless, watching
the horizon as it has just swallowed my last word,
and with it all it had to offer, not being sure if there
will ever be a dawn to unfold whatever meaning was
still hidden in its womb, I am aborted, speechless,
even the memory has left together with the smell
that hand in hand accompanied this precious treasure,
it’s gone, and here I wonder whether it is time to go
to sleep and to surrender, to lower now this useless flag,
where are the eyes, where are the ears to spot, where
is the home to enter, what harbor is it that would
welcome this forgotten sail, where are the hands
to comfort, I am speechless, but suddenly I realize
that there is room to fill, and unannounced one tear
touches my lips, and then another, and another still,
until I am no longer able to resist, I am flooded, for
every breath I take there is a wave, and the more I
breathe the more the waves keep rolling, on and on,
I become an ocean and I wake up to a new horizon,
and there it is: I’m speechless at this sight of nearing
fleets, a multitude of sails and waving flags are coloring
the dawn, then I remember, by letting go my last word
thus became the key to unlock what beyond meaning
is the keeper of the mystery, O yes, there is a deeper
womb, it is speechless, but it breathes, it is the silent
birthplace of eternity.

The Promise


As sure as seasons and as sure as stars, as sure as
ocean’s breathing ebb and flow, as sure as sun and
rain, or arrow leaving bow, as sure as mother’s womb
gives birth to all: a greater force encompasses it all,
so when we go to sleep it is to wake up and collect
what has been given, it is to carefully consider how
and when we are to fit each little drop into an ocean
we can call our own, our dreams then are the waves
that keep on rolling on the darkened shores, never
revealing what the smiling Moon was witnessing,
while rising Sun is waiting for our eyes to reap,
and so it is: there is a Postman that continuously
delivers, even our smallest wish is handled with the
utmost care, He knows what message matches with
our Soul’s desire, He trusts our Heart eventually shall
break the code of whatever lies encrypted in the Letter
He imprinted in our deepest vault, who, when or where,
however, this mystery we never shall unfold, we only are
recipients, but here it is: as sure as seasons and as sure as
stars, as sure as ocean’s breathing ebb and flow, as sure as
rising sun, as crescent Moon, or arrow leaving bow, as sure
as mother’s womb gives birth to all, so is the Postman’s
Promise: your Letter was delivered, it just craves for you
to use your opening key, enter the vault, trust your Heart
and read: believe Love is the greater force encompassing it all.

(img: “Christmas”, oil on canvas, 1964, F.Vercnocke)

The Sea Door

There is a door no one can see
it only opens for the blind
should you then stumble in
forget about the way that
took you here: behind it
unfolds insight in the mystery,
and when the time has come
then you will know the only
challenge was the one within,
to enter without entering, to
love the one and leave, a kiss,
a promise of the way beyond.

(picture taken @ St André Beach, Oostduinkerke, Belgium ~
“Vagina, Cathedral of Religion”, by Frans De Medts )

%d bloggers liken dit: