I’m on holidays in the middle of nowhere.
I have books.
I have my computer.
I have a heart that wishes for silence and the soft smiles of love.
I will sip some tea and close my eyes.

I’m on holidays in the middle of nowhere.
I have books.
I have my computer.
I have a heart that wishes for silence and the soft smiles of love.
I will sip some tea and close my eyes.
If sleep could touch my cheek,
I would ask for her slender hand
a thousand times.
If sleep did fall upon me now,
I dare not wake.
No.
I dare…not…
It would be okay,
I believe,
If you were to make a wish
and put it in your pocket.
It would be okay,
especially so,
if the wish was sweet.
For a wish made carefully
is often much sweeter
if forgotten
(in a pocket)
and found
somewhere along the drifting line
of life.
Somewhere lovely,
of course.
Somewhere really quite lovely,
I would think.
Will I always dream of life beyond the creaky bones of now?
The other side of the hill will call again, no doubt, whispering: this is what your life could be.
And though my heart is full, will I always dream of something more?
Of the life beyond the life?
The echo of the here.
The shadow of the now.
Dreams are always somewhere else, aren’t they?In a place that doesn’t exist.
Shall I creep towards that place, knowing there is no destination?
Knowing the birth of a dream will only end it and call forth the birth a new one?
Knowing the dream train will never ever reach the station?
I am a body.
But I am dissolved
by the blinding light
of destiny.
Here I spin,
longing to escape
the heavenly dream
that hurtles through the soft
and quick
of me.
Catch me, hold me still.
Oh, the aching,
catch me.
Hold
me
still.
In the arms of the rippling blue night,
the darling dreamers
sing
to the Gypsy song of yesterday.
And with a gaze:
tomorrow?
And with a kiss:
yes.
Darling is the dream of waking up beside you,
knowing the world is perfectly still
for one single breath of mine.
And when sleep comes once more, meet me in the sky between us;
hold me by that darling river of ours,
until the sunrise brings you back to my day.
Darling.
Darling is the dream of you.
Darling is the everlasting dream
of you.
Where is this life that I cannot catch,
that springs and curls like the loveliest vine
around the spirit of me.
The sun falls on my back, and I run toward the open ocean.
The sand is warm between my toes, and I am on my way home.
To a new life.
A new hope.
A new dream:
to be all that I can be.
Love. Creativity. Inspiration.
Here I am.
Here I am.
When I was a princess,
all I wanted
was to be a girl.
To the weary traveler of life:
No wonder you are tired.
You have been running
for so long
away from the dreams that chase you.
Let them come.
Let them fall into you
and let the river have them do
whatever they will do
to your ready and waiting heart.