DORIT DORNIER

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Musings of a tightrope walker...

 

Warm Nights

It’s now again when the nights get warm
I would like to stay outside and meditate
Imagining I was a growing plant
A sister to the trees and the flowers
Moths would sit on my fingertips
Moon would silently tell the time
And bird would at once in the middle of night
Rehearse its song in her sleep

 

Forever

I love to be the one…
That loves to be the one…
That loves to stay a child forever
A child of myself
And a child of the sky
Child of the universal hope of someday learning to fly…
A child of constancy
And a child of change
Child of the eternally evolving mysteriously dreaming Divine…

 

Evening

Sitting on my tightrope today

I can’t find words to describe

This evening of unbearable sweetness

Of velvety warmth and melting melodies…

Dipping my toes into swimming clouds,

I tried to hold on to the leaving sun

While the sickle of moon

Carved ancient symbols into my heart.

 

Sweet Song

...but the night bird is singing so sweet!

Dream ’s kissing goodbye at early dawn…

Its blue breath turning pink…

Loosing necklaces of tears all the way…

…but the night bird was singing so sweet!

All my day I replay this wondrous song…

And I hope and I wait...

For my dream and the night bird to come…

 

A Sigh

Sitting at mother mountain’s feet

Lost within the presence

Of the song of a bird

A sigh at my center

Opened its wings

Left silently

And rose

Above

Sitting at mother mountain’s feet

Lost within the presence

Of the song of a bird

A sigh at my center

Opened its wings

Left silently

And dove

Below