Across the plains on horseback

My beautiful horse is not
my horse
it belongs
to itself
like i
do

simple
and wise
are the ways
of beautiful  horse

my pipe
is not my
pipe
it still belongs
to the elder tree
who borrowed
it to
me

simple
and wise
are the ways
of  borrowing
elder tree

my words
are not
my words
they still
belong
to the Abc
who kindly lend
them to
me

simple
and wise
are the ways
of the splendid
a b & c


my freedom
no longer
belongs to me
i used to think
that it was my
property
until it was
given wings
on a magnificent
day

simple
and wise
are the ways
of winged freedom

simple
and wise
are the ways
that lead
one to
pureness
of the senses
and joy
of the soul

one day
i shall
become
myself
again
and
memories
of the past
will merge
with the
present
like
a fish
to water
and
all shall
be as new

the streets
will be covered
in flowers
and music
sweet music
will play
from the
orchids
and the comfrey
linnenflowers
 honeybane
& parsley

and from
out of nowhere
there will
appear  a red
shining figurine
of a man or a woman
dancing to
the pulsating
rythm of
pure
enchantment

vivid
and beautiful
is the well
of the imagination
as it pours
with splendour
the gifts
of second
sight

Autumn Flowers

Planting a seed
and watching
it grow into
a beautiful
flower
is a most
rewarding
meditation
that begins
in the dark
of the earth
& heads
upwards
toward
the light
 unfolding
itself
in a fairy dance
of the elements
ripening
finally
at the end
in a cascade
of wondrous colour
and fragrance
that takes
one further
into
bliss




all ages have their beauty
but one at a time
my deer

-------(¤)--------

In the land
of tomorrow
there is
also a night
and a new
dawn
that will
follow

in the land of
tomorrow
waits another
day
for itself
to arrive
at the center
of attention
----(¤)-----

in the land
of tomorrow
there is still
not much going
on
but theres
always
time

the unborn
rests in the womb
of days to come
dreaming
itself to life
in a futuristic
forest of trees

Theres a fight at the end of the tunnel

Look ahead
theres a light
at the end
of the tunnel

its the police!


and when
you come to the end
of that endless
tunnel
theres
a briliant
fight

kung
fu

Bortim skaugum

Bortim skaugum
beur trollgotten
Pinni
han dinglar
från tretoppan
og fanga
kråke
som han
trene upp
tell
flygande
trolle
og slik
eig
han skaugum
mæ si
trollemakt
dinne gotten
som beur
bortim skaugum

sjeleferd

Hauvudet dirra
og sang
på høge
ringande
tonar
veggen mellom verdnane
skalv og revna
og snart
vart han trekkt
hinsies
til den
andre verda

der fekk han
å sjå
og kjenne
på det
som er
annleies
og det
var so mykje
av allskens
både skjønt
og utfordrande
at minutt
blei snart til
timar
og då var
det at han
ville tilbake
men vegen
tilbake
den fann
han ikkje
så lett
og han
famla og
kava
som i lause
lufta
etter
kroppen
og jorda
som han
ikkje ville
gje slepp
på
ennå

omsider
var han tilbake
att i seg sjølve
og kunne
kjenne på
livet som
for fysste
gong
fylld av
nåde og
heilag
ande