This is for you who stay without the sun, because I have it all.
This is for the longing hearts of sunsets,
the restless souls of moon rise
This is for those who leave their sleep to see the first rays of the sun
because I have it all.
It is midsummer in Finland. I lie in my bed listening to the wind in the trees surrounding my small being. The forrest around me is swaying in the waves of the wind. Thin branches bend to greet their master, the sky. Thw rain soaks the clothes of the green beings, nothing can escape these forces of nature. I lie in my bed and listen.
When I wake up everything is silent. My sisters face is turned towards me, she is breathing softly. I have had no dreams, I have been in a total state of stillness. And now everything around me is quiet. Nothing moves. The trees outside are still, they are almost apologetic for their dance during the night. I wonder what it was like last night, when the wind stopped. Did it end suddenly or slowly fade away, changing its place? Is the wind like a long hem of a lady; covering the ground with its sweeping shadow and moving along her steps, following where ever she goes. And when she stays, when she sways and dances, the hem will dance with her. The wind will be as wild as her steps, the sound of thunder as loud as her laughter.
It is silent as I go outside. Yesterday was raining, but today I see the sun. It is a beautiful day after the storm. The sun shows its face and moves slowly, like in a dream world over our heads. Although his smile is bright is his warmth chased away by the sea breeze, I squint my eyes under his gaze and hold on to my scarf. It is cold.
I wonder through the forest. I am looking for a good birch to cut some braches to make a small whisk. I want to wash myself in the smell of summer, I want to cleanse my back with the sent of the trees. I walk on the mossy ground gazing at the treetops. I try to climb a young trunk, but the braches are too high. Why? Slowly I collect a good bundel and walk back to our cottage. I am not afraid. I have seen so many forrests, so many trees, so many grounds and jungles, but not felt afraid in the forest. Alone I am safe, I know the trees won't hurt me. I know the groud won't hurt me. I know the sea won't hurt me. I hope I don't cut myself with my knife.
The water is cold! Oh so cold! I chant hindu mantras, I pray to Shiva to take my mind off my body. Maybe it helps, maybe he just sits on mnt Kailash and laughs at my crazy little being. Still here I am, after Ganga, after Pushkar, after the Indian Ocean, After the Gulf of Thailand and The Great Mekong, bathing in the Gulf of Finland, in the same spot I learend to swim and to love the sea. There is nothing new under the sun, and this is where you will find me.
This is for the longing hearts of sunsets,
the restless souls of moon rise
This is for those who leave their sleep to see the first rays of the sun
because I have it all.
It is midsummer in Finland. I lie in my bed listening to the wind in the trees surrounding my small being. The forrest around me is swaying in the waves of the wind. Thin branches bend to greet their master, the sky. Thw rain soaks the clothes of the green beings, nothing can escape these forces of nature. I lie in my bed and listen.
When I wake up everything is silent. My sisters face is turned towards me, she is breathing softly. I have had no dreams, I have been in a total state of stillness. And now everything around me is quiet. Nothing moves. The trees outside are still, they are almost apologetic for their dance during the night. I wonder what it was like last night, when the wind stopped. Did it end suddenly or slowly fade away, changing its place? Is the wind like a long hem of a lady; covering the ground with its sweeping shadow and moving along her steps, following where ever she goes. And when she stays, when she sways and dances, the hem will dance with her. The wind will be as wild as her steps, the sound of thunder as loud as her laughter.
It is silent as I go outside. Yesterday was raining, but today I see the sun. It is a beautiful day after the storm. The sun shows its face and moves slowly, like in a dream world over our heads. Although his smile is bright is his warmth chased away by the sea breeze, I squint my eyes under his gaze and hold on to my scarf. It is cold.
I wonder through the forest. I am looking for a good birch to cut some braches to make a small whisk. I want to wash myself in the smell of summer, I want to cleanse my back with the sent of the trees. I walk on the mossy ground gazing at the treetops. I try to climb a young trunk, but the braches are too high. Why? Slowly I collect a good bundel and walk back to our cottage. I am not afraid. I have seen so many forrests, so many trees, so many grounds and jungles, but not felt afraid in the forest. Alone I am safe, I know the trees won't hurt me. I know the groud won't hurt me. I know the sea won't hurt me. I hope I don't cut myself with my knife.
The water is cold! Oh so cold! I chant hindu mantras, I pray to Shiva to take my mind off my body. Maybe it helps, maybe he just sits on mnt Kailash and laughs at my crazy little being. Still here I am, after Ganga, after Pushkar, after the Indian Ocean, After the Gulf of Thailand and The Great Mekong, bathing in the Gulf of Finland, in the same spot I learend to swim and to love the sea. There is nothing new under the sun, and this is where you will find me.
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