It was me all the time

Witnessed the fall
it was the ground in all your soil
grows tight in my roots as a last thirst to water a life force capable yet
witnesses of a thought creates the door to a life
and I find the spark again in a new perspective
opening all doors in a different direction
seeking consolation to recycle the light
wind will find soil
will build fire
will burn water
will bring me back.

A rose is a rose

 

Like a soaring consciousness that witnessed the scene

The title created confusion already in its first word

that’s how the light was killed by itself
as the opposite of an incomprehensible conclusion
a candle can only burn, right?
if the flame’s innermost core chooses to explode like a failing star
my light extinguished
not because of the fall or the explosion
not because of the entry into oblivion
rather as a result of the snare that got denser
like in a far too taight costume
laced together as a vital measure
the price was lost visibility,
and radiance like a trapped beam in a dark cave.

etheric-body-oil-painting

Earthy Oils

 

 

 

Vulnerability

The dose of happiness
in a pulse of changing rhythm
throws the linear aside
brutally
for a moment in the miracle of
what the moment yielded
the truth was never closer than what the lie sniffed on
that everything is love, more or less deformed
wisdom’s eye let thoughts vibrate
isn’t also hate a love far away
so the war was over, there in the glow and reflected the eternal question
it should be a wearer of its own
or the totality that always alters
rejected, relegated, looking for their beliefs in the borderland
the witness was
as always, near
a pounding heart
breaking the night into day.

_DSC8964 - Kopia