Southbound

I must let myself fall

Into the chaos of the city

Be flexible or I will break

Riding on some London Underground train again

Southbound, the black line

That cuts the city from North to South

Reminder of death and life

Of love and letting go

I can hear a gigantic breathing as it moves on

Through the darkness

And closing my eyes

I suddenly knew

That London is nothing but a huge organism

Breathing in and out

And me I am nothing but a cell

In the Underground veins

Connected forever to all the other cells

Of the huge warm body we are living in

No boundaries

No need for panic

No division

I can feel all the hearts

Beating as one

All the souls

With more or less the same wishes

Being loved for what we are

Not what we should be

Being plain and extraordinary

At the same time

Just letting go

Falling into the natural flow of the blood

Running through the urban veins

Till I see the daylight again

Oval shaped womanly

loving and loved

Endlessly by all the other cells

Fall

From here to

You won’t be able to keep the light
The season’s tilt over to fall
The blue sky, soon past.
Another lonely autumn, another lonely winter.
But better this than been chased, knowing, it’s wrong,
cramped in places you do not belong,
the assimilation to normality
for what?
Here however the free spirit is breathing.
All is possible,
Forever my from-here-to-place.

Lighthouses

You wink at me

You wink at me all the time

I can see you

You are heaven

I am hell

I wish your light would guide me

Stay fresh and clear

When mine is gone

I feel so diminished

So out of the world

I wish your sound would guide me

Overseas and way back

When my strength is gone

I wish you to renew it

You are my light

You wink at me

You wink at me all the time

I can see you

You are heaven

And so am I

„Heaven“ is a lighthouse on land, „hell“ one in the sea.

It still feels strange to write in English. But, I like it. It’s so different from writing in German. And I know, I would not like the translation. ;)

Chaos is the meaning of life

Good morning it’s 5 a.m. and my life is chaos again!

Chaos is the meaning of life, my daughter says. She is nine. Number of the hermit, number of wisdom.
Chaos is something all children know deep from the heart. It’s the thing, they welcome, because we all force them to live in a world of squares.
How to live in a square, when you are a circle!
So welcome chaos, if you want to be a child. A child? I am an aging child. Like in this song by Joni Mitchell.
When you are an aging child, you are waiting for the chaos to lay down and make a bridge for walking over to the other side (what ever that may be!).
When you are an aging child, you are waiting for the hot, dazzeling light to dim down and make it all calm, round edges, soft atmosphere.
All should fall into pieces. All should fall into pisces. The other side of virgo. The virgin light in the morning.
It’s 5 a.m and my life is chaos again.
Chaos is the meaning
of
life
my daughter says
as she learns how to survive being a circle in a world of squares.
From some distant planet she waves to me
out of time and space
with nine years of compact wisdom
the huge Pandora box to pop up and spread
what grown-ups fear:
there are no soft edges in life
and no smooth corners to catch your breath
on
on with the dance
the limbo of making your way through.