HOWLED

…days to remember…

…once, when this was breath…

… while summer breezes kiss the air.

…summerdays laid back rivers roaring birds are snoring we feel safe as we speak of grief and deep we sink…

5 years of falling in and out, and in for love.

– analogue – oh those evenings in awe of life

– analogue – in the misty air on a winter morning in the south, a woman walks barefoot through the…

…magnolia dreams shedding skin for me to remember her.

… homing pigeons.

… winter in the south.

… morning light is the echo of the mystical for the eye.

… when winter felt like a caterpillar shedding its skin, and sand became a mellow breeze, we forgot the days…

… when the first blossoms appear on my morning walks through corrupted land, I whisper prayers to conflicted bodies in…

…when we were young and wild heartedly sleeping next to the deer in the woods, on the fields, in strangers…

…when the second home is the barking of dogs, and a woman holding her heart in her hands for you…

…days worked side by side, and nights danced up side down the tunnel into the stream, friend, those are the…

that is what they say holiday looks like.

…after the storm when the heart was taken to the backyard of the clouds – all misty air and mourning…

…before the silence…

…and a hand holding…

…and a pirate’s boat…

…and the sea’s eye..

…and the eye listens to the sound of your belief that there must be a place for you to feel…

…and a heart of stones…

…and magnolia dreams…

…and cologne…

…and vienna…

…and nature…

…and movement…

…and work…

…and cologne…

…and near mother…

…and mogli…

…and switzerland…

…and a home…

…when a home…

…oh sister, how dear is the thought of you near me.

…once when home felt home they came and we invited.

…married to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

please forgive, for i have hurt your tender heart.

…when you realize the flowers once picked for you become memories of a summer and winter together, apart.

…turn the world into a place where thankfulness is not a question of believe but of being alive.

…when days spent in the mountains, the rain felt like a tickle of life under your armpits waking you to…

home.

…studio sessions in the sun…

…chasing shade under a woman’s dress…

… taking me home to uncertain places…

…when depth becomes an endless blue shiver handkerchief dribbling slowly through your breast, I am once more reminded of the…

… the changing range of clovers meets gravel meets spring meets eyes on a sunny Thursday – or Monday –…

…spotted…

…welcome to desert land…

…always ways to go…

22.2.22 Let the light flow.

…and then you realize that the sun in your face was once a desired necessity from your yearning eyes to…

…living in the south…

…when you wake to an unknown place but do remember the sound of home breathing next to you, you know…

…and the ocean is roaring in fast pace like an avalanche biting breezy bits of land slowly dissolving into the…

…keeping fingers crossed while saying “see you soon” but meet me not – I am gone nowhere today.

…hold – back – don’t hold back

…when a lonely tree asks for your hand to hold it for a minute, and the sky turns to you,…

…when you learned how you love to see the back of books in the shelf making you wonder about all…

…when hands feel fruits in late autumn rinsing through thin fingers…

…when the sun still feels like a broken bone edgy and healing at the same time…

…mornings in a city…

when the car became our refuge…

Sommerherbst

Thankful to be able to create something new in those times.

Always good to be reminded.

if it was her who made me go chase the wind in unknown places, I don’t know. I am just…

…oh happy sunny days in a different city while the world hesitated to take another breath.

and I remember you.

…friends in common places…

and this time the sky was a mockingbird losing its feathers when walking side by side through those lazy Saturday…

and then the end has come.

when your body is pulled down the hill and across the lake, and the wind howls through your weary eyes…

and as the roads keep on melting into the endless memories of those long days out there, my hands fumble…

even when the borders are crossed backwards in uncertain boots from the wild, and you suddenly end up in Tallinn,…

Thank you for waiting for us so patiently – always.

…and the whole world asks me to be tender with myself. Go and bite the trees instead of your mind.

…

I thought it was just an oil color on canvas, but you see, up here in Lapland they do have…

and in the middle of a deserted ground you find a church of Gold, and feel the tender breeze of…

And your spine as a triumph held toward the high end of a blazing cold. Straighten your view and you…

And over fields of snow you discover yourself in the light of a fireplace out in the woods. When the…

Come, and lay on clouds with me. They only last that long.

…back in the day we saw the horizon in a dusty grey moving over little land. holding hands was easy…

…and then, once in a while you get your treat in a supermarket cafe…

Slowly after the last work is done you come to raise your head to the trees, and see wonders heavy…

…back to when we sang out in the streets…

Outside the window the trees stand like patrons holding a falling ground in its place. The slippery soothing sound as…

When the stars come to play on eartha shimmerling light of treasures in the darkdance to the hourly wisdom of…