Cloud Riders

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Horses sprint like sapphire wind
over the soft blue meadow of heaven
with white and blue tails like fire of ice
Wings unfolded, white strong and proud;

Forged of clouds and melted crystals
lowering their hoofs to touch the silent surface
as they smile to the navy blue waters reflection

Like soft shadows sighs across the profound sea
where only deities dwell; spreading their gems
as they protect the fortune of Njord
under the never ending sparkling stars

© Sirenia 2012
Photo © Stelios Mpatz

When Silence Says It All

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Silence

When love are on a higher level
– when emotions run deep
like the river inexorably floats
between trees on golden fields;
Peace sets in, soothing our hearts
feelings forever to stay;

No words are needed

… when silence says it all

© Sirenia 2012
Photo: Stelios Mpatz

Soul Language

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In that moment
when your eyes
meet mine
I can`t help
but wonder

… as the world
stops turning
– goes silent
and shows a glimpse
of eternity
for a split second …

Do you recognize
the language our
souls speak to
each other …

Revealing that
this is not the
only life where
we could have met?

© Sirenia 2016

My Own Cry

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You`re everywhere
even though you are gone
You`re in the most
unpredictable places
in books and in every song

Day and night,
you are just as close
I hear you in every heartbeat
you`re pumping through my veins
You`re even in the wind that gently blows

And when the night coils around the day
I calmly close my eyes
dreaming and hoping to see you better
You are in every crowded place
– and in my unsent letter

You`re in everywhere I see and hear
I see you in the golden evening sky
and in the rose`s morning dew
I hear you in the birds beautiful song
and in the trees silent sigh
But the place you are the most
– where I can hear you the best
 is in my own lonely cry

©️Sirenia 2020

Nothing Matters To The Dead

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Flying on the wings of a dreamy mist
I sigh, close my eyes and smile
I am off to live and not just exist
a scent of velvet night, so fragile

I just don`t know what makes me wake up
to this indifferent world and dirty rain
I let my mind wander as I fill my coffee cup
getting ready to walk with the dead again

… For the humming of flies and smell of roses
and the seagulls flight over water`s deep
For the shades of the green trees that poses
and roar of waterfalls that never sleep

For shady glades and sunny hills
and golden fields where we have run
For the joy of a child playing by the mills
with the taste of raspberry on her tounge

For the moons reflection in the river
swept over the spear of a lonely church
For the morning dew droplets that quiver
and owlets that dance in the light of a torch

For those who choose the pain of living
and chasing storms around them whirled
For tortured souls – and yet forgiving
still helps the skies to bear this world

Deep breath in my lungs as the vision`s dying
Those never fail who never dare
Cried for by none and cursed, we were just trying
to dream of what you`re not aware

Of a soft breeze embracing lovers
and butter melting into warm bread
Of high mountains and soft flowers
yet nothing matters to the dead …

© Sirenia 2011
© Photo Stelios Mpatz

* This poem has been posted here earlier.

Return To Silence

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The other night I watched a program on BBC Earth. “Where The Wild Men Are”, presented by Ben Fogle. I like to watch it. I like Bens voice with which he tells a story about different people who have chosen to live in isolated places around the globe. The way he express his thoughts through his observations and by talking with the people is captivating and it draws me back to my own childhood.

I grew up in a isolated village, surrounded by mountains and thick forest. No train connection, a bus a couple times a day that took you to the nearest train station. 30 km away. Or any other stores or facilities you needed. If you wanted a decent haircut, prepare to travel 80 km. You had to plan everything you wanted in advance and you had to have a car.

But the place itself is breathtaking. The mountains, the forest and the wildlife upon your doorstep. I can still remember the smell of the spring, when the pine trees and the flowers exploded in your face.
I can still hear the birds sing loud while the pheasant slowly strutted around minding their own business. And if you were up very early you could be lucky enough to hear and see a Capercaillie. Sprouting their feathers and sing loud in search of a mate.
The moose, the fox which came to say hello and the mother deer with her 2 babies that ate all the apples from your tree. All around you were the purest of the pure; mother nature in all her glory.

sc3b8ln_rendalen

Sølen mountain, Rendalen Norway

This childhood home of mine has been battling isolation and depopulation since the 1960`s. And as the icy fingers of the Corona virus slowly tightens its grip around the globe, borders and ports are being closed. Shops, restaurants and streets are dark and empty. People are advised to stay inside and in more and more places there is  a complete lock down; and I can`t ignore the irony.
Isolation –  now we all are seeking it.

We sit in our homes face timing with friends and family; unburden us of fears and uncertainties while we all, in our own way, explore new and at times a bit frightening terrain. And all this while we discover a forgotten sound: silence.

© Sirenia 2020
Photo: Wikipedia

“Now”

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Reflections - The World In A Bubble

 

… and did you ever
take a word
in your mouth
to taste it
to let it roll on your tongue
as the flavours of the letters
bombarded your senses
and played with your mind?
Like the word
“Now”
Such a small word
“Now”
yet it contains eternity …

© Sirenia 2016
© Photo Stelios Mpatz