that is what they say holiday looks like.
Autor: HartenbergJohanna
…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