Every Morning

 Every morning I bend up my body.

Cat and cow, cat and cow, cat and cow. The frogposition is good too.

Every morning I straighten my brain. Silence, a path, a new map for braincells to follow. 

A worried mind grows old so fast.

Every morning I seek, and find, a place for my soul. That's the hardest one, what it needs forever changing.

Soul room: a candle, a stare (gorgeous view, oak trees, birch trees, and my sisters garden), kindness towards view, reflektion back to Self.

Every morning ... ... ... ... ...

Some posion in softness

Travel Tales From Unknown Realities - The Poem

There are tales. Tales we wonder about. Tales that makes us ponder, what is possible? Michael Peter Langevin has not only written such a book, but also started a podcast series telling the stories of unknown realities. To not miss a beat, you can follow him HERE.

So get cozy, sit back, and start with an introduction poem. If you want the first part that introduces Travel Tales from Unknow Realities go HERE.

Enjoy Your Self.

Black Is Also a Holy Color

 Black is also a holy color,

Even though.          It's no color,

at all.

But a void,            a blanket hiding

That there's nothing                    to see.

Or, perhaps there is. If we feel the shape. Rather than use our ever worsened eye sight.

Lost Voice

When did I loose my voice?

That's an easy one.

When I realized that what I had to say wasn't of interest, or boring, or just plain wrong.

It's been a long time.

Words, it seems, should in general be used for light entertainment. Or possibly a sobstory. Tradegy can be popular. If it's not to complex. Preferably with a handkerchief and a therapeuft involved. One in each hand.

Sayings are also ok,

                                 but - heavens no - not your own. An ancient asian guy's saying (exakt country and location uninteresting) is fine, for a facebook post. As long as he is far removed enough, geographically and timeline wise. He would most likely be inconvinient. Would he be here.

I learnt how to blabber now. Blabbering is like a drug. Gives some release perhaps, hold real things at bay. It grows old - pretty fast.

So I will take a walk. Quiet breeze around.

And then, I will edit a story, that doesn't fit any cathegory. Somewhere there, a lost voice might be swimming around.

In Spite of It All

 In spite of it all. Mother nature keeps changing, the earth keeps revolving.

Field on morning walk

Shit Happens

Madonna mural, Malmö

To accept that

                         the world is not fair.

That is growing up. I'm surprised it took so long. It's so easy to see; ask any refugee, or victim of famine or beauchratic, lazy glitches.

To accept that we are fully responsible for our lives. That's growing up. However late, however hard (if its any consolation, most people never do. At least not in this broken world divided in winners and loosers. Now, that's mature.). For certain things. For the temperature of our own will. For the things we do have som power over.

Shit happens. Sometimes a seemingly endless array of shit happens, one thing after another. Simoustanly. This is not a small matter; people die you know.

But there are steps; small, ludiocrucy stubborn, steps that we might be able to take. That we might choose to. It's a gamble if anyone will applaude you.

Walk anyway.

Cloudy, my sister's garden

Whatever You Do

Whatever you do you will die.

To remember that would be my sagely advice,                    if l had any.

Which I don't. Of course, I don't. Enough of self-appointed life coaches around. If they know how to tell someone to live,

bless them.

Whatever you do you will die. That is not an advice. Or, a metaphor, for that matter.

It's a truth. One of those absolute truths, that can be good to keep in mind. When you make choices -

be kind.

There are many broken people, who could need a smile without a demand for one back. There are those striving for perfection. Pity those. They cannot win. And remember,

                    remember,

                                        remember,

We will all die.