Gaja-the living planet (poem)

Evening by a lake

When I go for the evening skies
I arrive where deep-down
I already am, on the pink and orange
wavelength, where thought and feeling merge,
where the currents of mind determine
a heart’s flight, undulating

from the high to the low,
before settling on the darkening surface
next to the cormorant or
the silhouettes of dusky sea-birds against
the flickering water. See

how more and more flocks
come in from the violet east
crossing the luminous skies and how
they glide softly without a noise and
without even beating their wings.

More and more swooping thoughts,
they circle the light-rippled lake,
put silent dots onto the sheath
of glittering silver,
as dots within a sentence
awaiting conclusions,
pending, pondering and gently

welcoming meaning: the last sun rays.
There, an array of possibilities,
but always
this tang of unlaundered light
until I find it – the blood drenched hour,
when the night shakes me awake.

I suck it in, liquid spectrum,
for I am thirsty as if I went for days
carrying along someone else’s thirst
that would dry me out.
I do not think that a mouth
other than mine would blister

where I drink from the sky,
where I bite out cloud shapes, nuzzle
currents of tangible light
to my heart’s soft lips, where

I taste the pure dusk, devour
darkness and find, what I came for,
in an explosion of geese, as I walk past,
that lingers on for a mile
in the sharp breath of the night.

Gaja-the living planet (poem)


Faringdon, United Kingdom

  • Artist

Artist's Description

this poem describes an evening walk around a lake with nature sound, visual impressions and inner voices

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