evening

the soft twilight is meant
for poets and dreamers
a love song in the air

birds flutter
a fright full of wings

a moment dying
in the last daylight
breaking in pieces
outside my window

the evening comes to me
innocent and lyrically sensuous
a maiden in veils
of shadows and stars


♥



©

~Christa

Stories

I could tell you stories
from the edge of reasoning

there are worlds you haven’t seen
and words you’ve never spoken

not to me at least and
when the sun sets
at the end of today

remember how this moment
that has never happened before
arrived from nowhere
to stay

we light another cigarette
finish the wine

and write a story
in smoke

♫


~Christa
©

Try to praise the mutilated world.

Remember June’s long days,
and wild strawberries, drops of wine, the dew.
The nettles that methodically overgrow
the abandoned homesteads of exiles.
You must praise the mutilated world.
You watched the stylish yachts and ships;
one of them had a long trip ahead of it,
while salty oblivion awaited others.
You’ve seen the refugees heading nowhere,
you’ve heard the executioners sing joyfully.
You should praise the mutilated world.
Remember the moments when we were together
in a white room and the curtain fluttered.
Return in thought to the concert where music flared.
You gathered acorns in the park in autumn
and leaves eddied over the earth’s scars.
Praise the mutilated world
and the grey feather a thrush lost,
and the gentle light that strays and vanishes
and returns.

Adam Zagajewski

♥

a little lesson i find sublime

"Live life fully while you're here.
Experience everything.
Take care of yourself and your friends.
Have fun, be crazy, be weird.
Go out and screw up!
You're going to anyway, so you might as well enjoy the process.
Take the opportunity to learn from your mistakes:
find the cause of your problem and eliminate it.
Don't try to be perfect; just be an excellent example of being human."


~ Anthony Robbins (b. 1960); self-help writer, speaker

♫

When I was a girl, my life was music that was always getting louder.
Everything moved me.
A dog following a stranger, that made me feel so much.
A calender that showed the wrong month.
I could've cried over it.
I did.
Where the smoke from a chimney ended.
How an overtuned bottle rested at the edge of a table.
I spent my life learning to feel less.


©

♫

♥

For my boys

~

Before you were conceived I wanted you
Before you were born I loved you
Before you were here an hour I would die for you
This is the miracle of life.

~ Maureen Hawkins ~

♥

♫

Somehow we survive and tenderness does not wither.

I sat by your bed while you were sleeping,
I watched you as you smiled through your dreams.
I traced your ear, your cheek, touched your silky hair.
Your soft, sleepy sounds enthralled me
I couldn't resist your magic

It tugged at my heartstrings
my enchantment with you filled my heart
I settled next to you, holding your tiny hand in mine.
While you were sleeping;
I fell in love with you all over again.


(on your first birthday)









I sang a thousand lullabies to him,
about magic and princesses and happiness under the full moon.
I danced with him through a thousand fairy tales.
The only magic I have left is love.
Smoke and incense and mirrors have vanished,
I spin a web of hope to catch him.
I see wounds appearing for which I have no cure,
we are bruising ourselves against the walls of the labyrinth.
I stitch his heart to mine, his pain becomes my own.


♥

(written while we were waiting for the INS to decide
about citizenship).

©