Lost in the maze of illusions and dead-end alleys.
we stretch out our hands as blindfolded eyes.
Feeling touching we keep bumping into the same walls
not knowing that the blindfold is within ourselves.
On a day, when the knot unties,
staying foot behind a thorn bush,
we blink and we see
that there are no walls …
Peace for you
starts as peace in me
Peace in me
is peace for you
Peace in you
has never begun
It was already there
before you were
Peace in you
has never ended
It is there
when you are not …
If life is holy
And death is helly
How would it be for us
When nothing ever dies?
How would it be for us
If death is holy too
How would that be for you?
Would death be there in joy
Like life is there in joy
Would you be free of fear
That death you sometimes brings?
Could death be life as well
And birth also be dying
And you for ever being
From which all’s ever born …
Even now in death
They still reach
up and up and up
Untill they shall fall down
in cool and damp moist soil
Upwards I shall reach
Untill I fall to earth
and I will never know
that I have ever reached …
I searched for you in the past
and couldn’t find you
Not with the dead, in history,
Not in the old stories
I searched for you in the future
and couldn’t find you
Not with the living, in plans,
Not in new dreams
I searched for you in the now
and couldn’t find you
Realizing that
the now does not exist
That I always was
That I never was
I found me
Just like that
Suddenly …
Die to everything you think you are
Die to everything you think you want to be
Die to everything you think you should be
Die to your joy
Die to your sorrow
Die to your birth
Die to your death
Dying to everything
comes effortless
at the right time
as
Grace
Summer dies to fall and leaves the warmth behind
Sometimes there is a touch of summer still on a warm day
And then at last she breathes her last breath
Fall in her restlesness
sweeps branches and cuts trees
So glad that now the storm can have its life
and she can show off all her splendid colours
Then on her cold bleak feet winter blizzards in
And rests upon all creatures of the earth
When spring comes and the buds unfold
the circle round, and again
life unfolds,
life feeds on life,
everything dies to everything
again, and again, and again …
If God is everything,
how can you prefer
this over that,
more of this,
less of that?
If God is everything
how can you want
the other different
than he is?
If God is everything
how can you not want it
when life, which is God, meets
death, which is God?
Wonderwalk 