(unedited unreleased version / excerpt)

by wubkje kuindersma
(published in the printed magazine DANS, efterår 2017)

drawings by Edgar Jansen (www.edgarportraits.com)

 

INTRO

she walked in a whisper
like nobody would notice her anyway
but I did
she was not to miss
her elegance wrapped around her
like a cocoon
carrying her beauty on the inside
rather than on the outside

I wanted to follow her
but something told me
to sit and wait
patience is a friend
who brings jewels in return

and yes with the breath
of another unspoken word
she turned around
and looked at me
or maybe rather beyond me

green ravish eyes
untamed
yet so in place
connected to something
if only I knew what

with the air of a butterfly
she passed me
as if I was not there
yet something in me
told me she had noticed
me all along

I decided to not move
and just stay
waiting for her to return
all I heard was the echo of her steps
resonating inside my hands
and before I knew it
I was writing.

©nordic tales/ intro / wk / 26.2.2017

CHAPTER  I

the distance to the house
was only a few meters
yet some days they
seemed unbearably long
like never-ending stones
repeating themselves unnoticed

where to go
if the road is embracing itself
like the world is hiding
its truth
beneath a layer of pretend

how to unravel
these beauties
if nobody really sees
what they are

to share the treasure
of an unripe fruit
knowing the taste
will be brilliant
if only one trusts the process
of growth

nobody seems to care about
these things here
not even the stones
only the birds
seem to remember
the joy of their freedom
spreading their wings
like an unspoken thought
setting it free
to become what it ones was

the house a safe harbour
yet sometimes
a prison
so fine the line between these unknown
like a layer of glass
holding the truth
only to unfold in ones face
if one really dares to look
closely

reflecting
mirroring
transparency

to look beyond
is only about stretching ones mind
but how to stretch
if everyone / everything seems frozen?

my breath will give me the answer
breath on glass
glass on breath
if only one could see
what really was beneath

some days i could watch
the steam separate itself
like a cloud spreading itself
across the ocean
crying its tears
into never-ending waves

in a matter of moments
i would stop existing
waving my story
into the world
like the song of a bird
spreading its wings
on the melody of the world

© wk / nordic tales / chapter 1 /

 

……………………………………………….

DO ALSO READ by Wubkje Kuindersmaa: Dancing in Writing

“Tales of A Nordic Mind” is one of the performances in the evening programme “Don’t Leave me Alone”