my earth

fear for being down.
wanting to grow high -
without having roots in the earth.

earth is dirt -
to step on it with feet.
to lay the head on the shoulder of the earth.

 

living bound to it,
later a gift to the earth.
grass moves leaving a trace in a feather-filled bed.

 

open field can be shelter,
grasp and give her your nearness.

the mountain

earth heap, dirt, waste, unknown, split, shovelled over,
put away, on the side.
disregarded – transformed, shaped, pulsating, coming to life,
to give, to be.

 

where you came from, I don't know.
when you came, I don't know.
why I saw you, I don't know.
what I saw, an earth heap.
soon I saw you with liking and trust.
your being brought me joy.
without sense, doing nothing, you rested reliably apart.
disquiet, that you left the way you came.
approached, admire, commit.
keeping in picture, grasping you.
friends.

you are where you were, I am not there.

lines on the land

 jubilations for the wounds.
you artificial gash down beneath.

 

visible cries in the mother earth, tactile,
scared agony, which will disappear,
started to close itself, newly broken,
salved with the tears of heaven and
to be dried from sunshine,
healing or immersing themselves.
surrounded by millions of joyful, swinging stalks,
which praise the joy of life.
I mourn and admire you, you who can carry life lightly.

 

jubilation for the wounds.

horizons

swaying bodies, innumerable on a string.
assimilating to the stream,
splitting themselves and arranging.

emptiness flatters the visible.
the joyful colors flee.
unreachable. clearly precious.

 

narrow glances fall in the letter box,
freed by reading and
formed by lips – into freedom.

 

waving numerous stalks –
a brilliant horizon.
singing the sickle nears and delivers.