Driving in the snow

My eyes fixed to the driving lane
But to the left and the right along
There are trees, normally green
Today white and they almost shine. 

Throwing their pattern of bright and dark
Of shadow and light
They make up the road‘s face
Its dreamy design out of snow. 

Now straight ahead, then curvy
And from time to time, flakes tumbling
Sparkles shining when seldom
A single sun ray finds its way. 

The forest besides the road
It emits a comfy,
Marvellous silence
And lets me enjoy the moment.



The wind glides, as if by an invisible hand, over the great, wide white that reaches to the row of trees back there. The air seems almost frozen. Various spots glitter, they flash briefly and then disappear again, leaving the stage to others. The sun is low in the sky, casting its pale glow over the field. Last night it had snowed, now it glistens and is beautiful in its own unique way. Calm. Sleeping. Crystal clear. It is winter.





Growth. Fun.

Coffee. Sun.
Beach. Sea. Cat(s).

All of this is lovely.
Living, loving –
with it. Through it.
For it. By it.

Into my soul.


In one direction

The river takes away the story, while the ship stomps on its way in exhaustion. The surface of the waters simultaneously allows a glance into the past, down the river, and a peek into the future, up the river. For the waters that are yet to arrive tell stories of days that haven’t taken place so far. Silently, the waves with their gurgling sound continuously wash away the presence in one direction, making it part of a wet, natural archive of the past. Well, some things are immutable.



When the silent sounds of the water become inaudible, when the spotlights turn off one by one, when the gloomy reflection of the moon throws back its pale light into my glancing eyes, life is telling me a story. It‘s not joking and by no means unsure, it is just asking me to see things as they are – finite.

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