DORIT DORNIER

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Musings of a tightrope walker...

Wings


And then
We held our breath
Motionless
Watching the light drown.


Give me wings, my love
Give me wings for my soul to fly
To the land of the time’s return!
Give me wings, silent wings for my soul…


And again
You’d walked away
No goodbye
Under an empty sky

Give me wings, my love
Give me wings for my soul to fly
To the land of the time’s return!
Give me wings, silent wings for my soul…

And still
I’m waiting
Holding pieces of a broken heart
No glue to heal

Give me wings, my love
Give me wings for my soul to fly
To the land of the time’s return!
Give me wings, silent wings for my soul

 

 

Beneficial Circle

In healing ourselves

We are healing others

In getting healed

We’re becoming healers

In healing others

We’re healing ourselves

 

Sort of

Some sort of silence

Motionless

Thoughtless

Stillness

Some sort of waiting

Thunder in the distance

Fearless

Breathless

Brightness

Flares of lightning

Some sort of strength

Speechless

Listless 

Sadness 

Some sort of apathy

 

Reality

Reality... is it what we see... is it what we believe... is it true?

Why is your reality not mine, and why is my reality not same as yours?

Why are there many answers to one question?

Why not only one, the right one?

 

Long way home

I am glad I’m home.

The streets were long, long, long,

No snow no wind, no rain.

The streets were free and the drive was smooth

The trees looked cold, all of them and

Many of them had a bird at their top branches

It made me wish to sit as a black bird, in poise

The tip of the top branch underneath of my feet

Up there, above the tallest tree

The view and the peace…

Just for a fragment of time

The feeling must be… thoughtless power of now…

Two wings would spread open then to sail

The air above winter colors of browns and bluish grays in many ways

But yellow is standing out

The willows, all the willows are yellow

I took it all in and brought it with me

The endless carpet of street with the cars in front of the window

It’s rolled up as a film behind my eyes

The heavy truck that blew the soft snow at the side into mini twisters

Without wind just for the monster truck

The sleepy snowflakes danced pirouette after pirouette

We left for gas and for coffee

The donuts were greasy and the coffee was hot

But good and I’m glad I am home.