PART AIR – IN A CITY OF MANY – LIFE STONE CYCLES 

 

.

Once
in a hall of summer
on a sticky floor
rolling
roaring
with laughter
and beaming smiles
shouting into air
as air

.

Climbing all those steps
knocking at the stones front door
“it’s only me, let me come in”

 

Carpeted floors in hallways
the corners inhabited by you
white beans all over
and cabbage
and a little rascal
feasting on the crumbles
of a few

.

A feathered rock
hoovering above
A dance to lay you down
your hands
Washing air at a time
pressuring your feet
on top
underneath
the eye’s sky
Cold feet in the rain
greeting hungry rapid-paced bodies

into an ear-warm repetitive sound
into a warm ocean of darkness

You stood by

.

You made a sound of me
becoming an instrument

You let me twirl and swirl
mirroring
a moment to keep

On a step of stones
you brushed my hand with grass
and on my own
got me lost

You led me through narrow paths
through structures
and stones
away and home

You wrote a question to a stranger
and you lend me
your spiralling heart

to go outside
and gave it your time

You told me
of hands growing back
reminding to take
when given

and to eat
that sweet pear
for free

.

You shared your stories:
hung by the neck
placed on your skin
on top of your finger
and on your earlobes
while magnifying
borrowed bouncing things

and

a long time ago
fallen from the sky
a little rock
landed just in time
when doubt was close by

grounding
this puzzling facet world

.

Walking together
climbing cored mountains
lit life lights in the dark night
hexagon shaped shadows
on top of water
covered with earth
as a ground

.

Sharing colourful moments
as the rain fell onto our skin
Sharing dinners
and growling stomaches
Sharing life
in-between

 

Creating a pocket in time
seated dreams
stillness
chaos
and
slumber
intervened

 

Shared times
forever engraved

and carried
with gratefulness

 

from within

 

.

 

TIMER

Related Blogposts

During the two weeks at Sisters Academy my alter ego will be The Spider. I stand for structure, organization and patterns. I am creative (the cobweb), quite private and good at writing and getting things done (eight legs). I can sometimes be almost invisible but my work is visible and effective.…

You can call me The Hiker: The Hiker who travels with nature. I fly with the wind, fall with the rain, sail with the oceans – at least when I am free. I was born a long time ago, deep in the dense, green forest. With a strong connection to…