photo: Taverna, Mykonos, I love the old mirrors that distort reality
The blurry mirror
of silvered glass, a gleam
not quite me,not quite another
like a ripple stolen from the midst of a thought
The light blurs me,
like the mist over the loch,
below the unconscious depths stir,
the ancient shadows rise,
their voices soft as the breeze through the pines
then I fracture into thousand of me,
each a whisper, a wave
breaking upon the shores.
photo: only a boat is missing (the books are in the trees), Pohara, indigenous forest.
it was in our thoughts
or maybe in our dreams
the green boat, or was it an arch (of Noah?)
leaving the shore
full of books
also green
with words we might read
in quiet disarray
on our way to the salted water
photo: photo: forest at the edge of Pupu Spring, Golden Bay. It has been increasingly scientifically shown a little more each day that the environment plays an important role in the development of several diseases, but we already knew this, in a way, because every time we come into contact with nature, a veil of calm descends upon us.
and if I didn’t make a sound
I would disappear for good
in the foliage of history and
I would listen to the silence
until the end of time.
photo: en hiver
no more echo
only the hubbub of the word
that deafens you but
we start again anyway
every morning
we look for the good side of things
we search within
and leave the giant
landmark to others
and so be it
*reposted from 2022, edited in 2025 (text only)
photo: Pohara, a day of bad weather, just as beautiful
We would have to apologise to the world
for having promised for too long
that we would make it more grandiose
(it would be a metamorphosis
an overdose of seeing life through rose-coloured glasses )
because we couldn’t do that:
everything was already there
it is just that we couldn’t see it
