Move, like the
leaves that blow in the wind,
so jauntily and free.

There will always
be turbulences, storms and
loud whistles — until
everything settles again.
The stroking of
the wind becomes gentle.

And when it‘s quiet again,
listen; what does
the gentle breeze want
to tell you?

Our dear communication;
still so rigid and immobile today,
so heavy and slow.

Tomorrow will be different.
It is now in puberty, changes,
deforms, transforms.

And when the time is right,
it will fly through space and time.
From heart to heart.
And everything will be easier.

A song that sounds
in our ears. We cannot
hear it clearly. It’s
quiet, repeating itself over
and over again.
So familiar it sounds,
but we don’t exactly

And wherever we go,
we hear the song.
In the rush of the wind,
in the splashing of
the water, in the singing
of the birds,
even in our breath.

It‘s a song that everyone knows.

Problems are like mountains.
Mighty stone giants that
surround, constrict and crush us.
They throw their shadow
over us. How helpless we feel,
overwhelmed by them,
because we cannot move these
mountains …

But we can conquer them;
like an eagle, swinging up into
the air, ever higher and
higher, leaving everything behind.
And only when high up,
in far distances, we look back;

and suddenly everything
appears so small and insignificant.

Our problems are no
longer Mountains. They have
become small pebbles.


We are sleeping.
Like the Sunflowers at night,
with their heads down,
looking towards the ground.
Surrounded by the
darkness, we wait for the
first announcement
of the day.

And when the golden
sun finally rises from the
horizon, and its sunrays
 touch our petals,
 slowly open our eyelids.

It’s a new day — it has been
dark for too long. And
in a few moments, when the
sun is up high, lighting up
the whole field, we slowly lift
our heads and turn towards
the light.

© all poems written by Catherine