Hands

Hands

original title:

Männerhände

With gentle strength
The tip of your thumb
Caresses
My fingers

Your nails worn from work
Warmth spreads
In little electric shocks
All the way to my heart

And bits I won’t mention in public

Almost Over

Almost Over

2nd Advent
Another year
Quo vadis?

It makes me wonder why we parcel
Our life into little boxes of time

We feel our way from day to day
From week to week
Stopping only to give thanks when external factors require
Christmas, birthdays, anniversaries

These little boxes of time
An illusion of linearity
A second, a minute, an hour, a day
So we trap ourselves into the idea of a linear journey
The illusion of a goal … somewhere to be
‘To have finally made it’

Yet progression is not linear
Yesterday, I loved myself through space and time
Today I am undeserving of all my gifts
Tomorrow I might love myself again

And tomorrow this love will be a bit stronger
A bit deeper
A bit more forgiving
A bit more deserving
And maybe it will even be there the day after

But on Wednesday
On Wednesday I might be undeserving again
Or maybe
On Wednesday I will have found my truth