
Innocently
And with children’s joy
They slowly move
With their belongings
In the air.
It is the end of the line,
They think.
What will be the taste
Of empty space
When we are gone?
Healing and growth through intuitive art

Innocently
And with children’s joy
They slowly move
With their belongings
In the air.
It is the end of the line,
They think.
What will be the taste
Of empty space
When we are gone?

The old man
Made himself into an old tree
And sat
On an improvised chair
The old woman
Made herself to be
The leafs that shook and fell
And she was stolen by the winds
All the creatures
Of the forest’s floor
Were born
And then had gotten old
The inner eye
Saw what came and what has gone
and let the beauty of the world
Break the inner heart apart.