Lobe den Tag

What to do, when everything is perfect? Basically! Today I saw six coyotes, running and jumping across the meadow by the house. They were so alive and playful. Nothing else here, in a good sense - just me and the endlessness of a vast sky, changing its marvellous painting continuesly. How many variations of a beautiful sky are there? How long can one avoid the here and now? My mind is playing tricks on me, which is no problem, as long, as there are  people around, a job, neighbors playing loud music, city traffic - as long, always easy to find a target for my thoughts. But here, even the weather is perfect, I mentioned the sky already. I am alone with my mind and the coyotes. How many perfect sunsets can one bear? Today, many coyotes jumped across my mind. Most of them told me gossip about this and that. They were so alive and playful. Emptiness, a sky, suns...

To be with the open questions, without expecting answers. All, the endlessness offers,  is yours. All, the quietude offers, is yours. To be with the open questions, without expecting answers, might become your life. Who am I as a mother? Who am I as a woman? Who am I as a friend? Who am I as a partner? How do I write a good novel? What is my novel about? To be with the open questions. Your open questions, whatever they are, Quiet and patient – burning in their fire at times – the rest will follow - Trust – (c) Susanne Becker

the sky - a poem rewritten every instant clouds telling stories with many or few colours of what was what is what will be when the sun goes down each night a new scenario to burn your past in the fire she who seeks light shall not be afraid of the fire one has to be burned like the day in an ever more perfect sunset to be born again every morning in an ever more perfect sunrise to burn your past in the fire every word you ever wrote every word you never wrote she who wants to be alive needs not fear the bears needs not fear the fire needs not fear the dark light of the soul & the emptiness to burn your past in the fire every word you ever wrote every word you never wrote (c) Susanne Becker

Today I wrote a poem in my head. I was still asleep, now I do not remember its words. Today I saw a bear, in my dreams only, he did not look at me. His profile was beautiful. He had more dignity than any other being, I ever saw. I am the invisible woman, writing poems, in my head only, where they belong. Today I did yoga with a view into the vast landscape of northern New Mexico. It is like the sky, but in landform. It is like the ocean, but in landform. Today is my first day in Herekeke. Somehow, I can already tell, that magic is at work here. Opening senses, I did not know, I possessed. My thoughts are talking in verses to me, too fast to catch, to put on paper I am the invisible woman. Someone is writing poems in my head, for bears to read. (c) Susanne Becker