frozen lake ~
what a beauty
frozen lake ~
what a beauty
Once upon a time, there was a love in bloom. Suddenly they got lost among the obstacles that life posed before them. He left her safe and took a long road to the mountains. He has never came back. She has never stopped waiting.
Unconditional love, they say.
There is a meadow, in bloom, and a few hills behind it. A path between them is narrow, wrapped and long. I know that there is a Kingdom behind the hills but my path melts into the snow and I can’t reach to the King.
I recite my verses aloud hoping that they can travel by the wind.
“A goal stood before Siddhartha, a single goal: to become empty, empty of thirst, empty of wishing, empty of dreams, empty of joy and sorrow. Dead to himself, not to be a self any more, to find tranquility with an emptied heard, to be open to miracles in unselfish thoughts, that was his goal.”
(Source: Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse)
“Empty?”, I thought while the familiar voices of the latest reality-show superstars were reaching from the neighboring room. Scars covered with powder and silicone breasts springing from a deep décolleté like the pears from a knitted basket. So many words said aloud and yet said nothing.
“What is emptiness?”, I asked myself aloud.
I turned off the lights and closed my eyes. Soothing tones through the eairphones dirfts me away. There, where nothing exist. There, where only in Emptiness you can meet yourself. There, where I give birth to all my miracles.
bends the branches
~ stream of life
river keeps flowing
“Oh, no, just not you! Please, stay quiet, don’t speak!”, she thought when she saw his face through the car window. After the last time she met him, she spent whole day questioning whether that morning she had spoken to an ordinary taxi driver or her Higher-Self. This morning she was not in a mood to talk to her own self.
Luckily, he was silent. Some horrible folk music was coming from the radio. What a wrong way to start a day.
Well-known images pass through the window glass… A gas station, bridge and the river of her youth, few ravens on the wires … Everything looks so ordinary.
behind the horizon
in a faraway garden
I don’t see – just feel
She wasn’t quite sure if the letter that she found was sent after all, or not; nor she could remember where and when it was written.
“Deal with me as I deal with your silence” was a sentence that shaked her heart like an earthquake.
While she was reading a few of the first sentences, suddenly her whole body became a home of the thousand butterflies.
“I can’t stand the fact that I’m leaving for nothing. I want to be anyone, anything in your life. Don’t let me go away!”
Then the silence hugged her and a dark night turned into the chains.
smell of the sea
under a dazzling moonlight
I’m afraid I could become suspicious passing the same street every evening. Old gate, without a padlock on it, probably locked. All the lights have long been extinguished, and none of the windows gives out the signs of life. In my imagination, an ordinary day lasts, full of warmth and tenderness.
reveals all layers
Dreams are mirror of my soul and I pay a big attention to them, especially if I notice some strange symbolic. I still haven’t found out what is the reason why a big black dog appears there from time to time. Even more fascinating is a fact that it never comes alone but in a company of the few very old men. Although men always cause some kind of anxety, a dog never does anything but sleeping somewhere near me. A guardian or a possible danger? Who could tell…
memories flooding through
I can hear your voice in silence. You don’t have to say anything, that’s our souls talking. Pictures that you send me are clear, I don’t have to keep my eyes open to see. The air that you exhale, I inhale and then allow myself to be overhelmed by feeling of having you inside of me. The walls no longer exist, it’s only a matter of time who will make the first step. I know who will not. And I know who else won’t.
Revenge is a bad ally. I fight my battles alone.
seven and a half billion snowflakes
only one melts
on my palm
Freedom is a state of mind, they say. Freedom is when you give your hand to those who you called the enemies. Freedom is when your sufferings help you win your deepest fears. Freedom is when you turn your tears into the jewels and proudly hang them around the neck. Freedom is not when you forget, freedom is when you forgive.
Freedom is when you love, for no reason, just because you love.
drops of water
on a dreamy face
He told her
I’ll erase you
so you could be happy
He told her
I’ll lock myself
so you could be safe
He also told her
that he will go somewhere
where the cold winds whip
and turn tears into the ice
He told her
I’ll dissapear but you could find me
behind the barbed wires
that separate us
She said nothing
just – All right
Then she cried behind the door
For a long time
Until she dried out all the tears
And she stopped looking for him
hoping that he’ll surprise her
in their dreams
under the pillows
as still dreaming
~ a faith
Linked to Carpe Diem #1334 An Empty Mind