Vanilla scented dancing lights, whenever she‘s awake!
I ask my witch: „Who is she?“
This other part.
This part of me.
The part that paints vanilla scented shadows at the horizon and tickles legs to run onto them.
„She is a part us, you know?“
She woke up to keep memories that were never made.
To remember things that were not felt.
She is alive whenever you are close.
The you we miss.
She is right here, whenever you are in our thoughts.
She is a part, needing to be held.
Needing to be loved.
And holding a sparkle.
While doing so, she is scared.
She is so terrified, it is such a waste!
She could sparkle oh! So much!
She is the reason I still run.
To the horizon.
To shadows in Vanilla.
To you.
The you we miss.
She is the reason I won‘t give up.
I want to see her held and loved and full of sparkles.
She is a part of us, you know?
Because missing you awoke my soul.
This was written as a response to this older poem, which was my favourite work from 2020 and put a lot of questions into words that my witch and I got closer to answer by now.
My witching autumn desk
This was my longest quiet. My witch took a few weeks off. I have a lot of things to say, dark and urgent things! But my health made me pause everything. The first time in my life I’m saying that. I’ll be back in the next few days! Until then, enjoy the witching mood at…
Why do we stop doing things?
“When for health reasons we stop being ourselves, what is left then? ”, I complain to my witch just when the cold and dark season is ready to arrive. I am usually decorating a cake when the message I am dreading arrives. The pastry bag in hand, I read one cancellation after another. Of course,…
When we fall …
Who’ll be thereWhen we fall?Who will comeTo catch us all?Who’ll be thereIn the end? Late at nightI hear his voiceAnd I know thatHe waved her goodbyeThrough the noiseOf a world turning away. Laughter fromA window aboveBlurry lightsAnd I know thatShe gave upon loveRight there. And I wonderWho’ll be thereWhen we fall?Who will comeTo catch us…
