Questioning Wondering Pondering The known And the unknown On the brink Of a new poem Words leading somewhere With a new line or rhyme Strong images Or subtle hints Yet lingering In the background An unspeakable sense Of no-one and nothing Is going anywhere ~
Poets marbles Reflections Of vast and infinite Inner worlds Enchanted worlds Lost worlds And new worlds To come ~
Poets marbles A highway of thoughts Creating galaxies And foreign solar systems Carefully lining them up Subtlety aware Of the invisible forces And the spaces in between Of hidden treasures In the shadows Of the intangible unseen ~
Follow me, she said And the Gods painted the sky I leaped into dreams ~
Fleeting empty thoughts And the Gods painted the sky Quiet clouds drifting ~
The Sun was shining And the Gods painted the sky The colours of Life ~
Something’s in the air And the Gods painted the sky With new waves to ride ~
I remember This road I remember Climbing the tree Sitting exhilarated In its canopy Looking down At the mystic rivers steady flow Warm scents rising up From the lush undergrowth I remember This road I remember Quiet whispers from elven tongues The breeze of fresh air Filling my lungs
Those of you who’ve seen my previous little series on a sunset in black and white called “A Day Gone By I-III” and “What Simply Is” this is the light from the very same sunset reflected back from the cliffs…
There are days The Atlantic waves Are crashing wild and tall Against the naked limestone wall Regardless of the force It doesn’t change its absence of course Remaining solid and still Revealing stealth beyond will On the surface the cliff reflects An apparent reality, superior and complex And yet,
Neutral life Filling it out With our inner eyes Projecting our own colors Onto boundless stillness Keeping track of time In a timeless universe Weaving the fabric Of stories around What simply is ~
A day gone by Bright wings Touching the sky Fading into dreams Makes me question Is anything what it seems? Moments constantly turning Into nothing But memories of the mind, burning Feathers gently brushing away The dream Of who ever I was today ~
How often do we stop And give life Our full attention How often are we present To the mystery Of another How often do we listen To the silence of being That lives within How often do we let Open curiosity Lead the unknown way How often do we
Hanne T. Fisker Photography Art 