Not Once

not once
is the race
stopped
& still the
rules keep
changing

our sullen wisdom
& its tainted
heart
pull us
further
into the
swirl

somewhere
along the lines
of beauty
& sense
a call rings
out
- breaks forth
in the cool
morning air -
& with
magnificent static
our swollen eyes
& minds
are chained to
this priceless
dawn

Into starlight.

Cure for pain

Where is the ritual
And tell me where, where is the taste?
Where is the sacrifice
And tell me where, where is the faith?
Someday there'll be a cure for pain
That's the day I throw my drugs away
When they find a cure for pain

Where is the cave
Where the wise woman went?
And tell me where
Where's all that money that I spent?
I propose a toast to my self control
You see it crawling helpless on the floor
Someday there'll be a cure for pain
That's the day I throw my drugs away
When they find a cure for pain
When they find a cure for pain
When they find a cure, find a cure for pain

- Mark Sandman

Into twilight.

Summer Wind

I’ve written before about colours too beautiful to be real. This time I write about smells, sounds, tastes, sunsets, dawns, rivers, railroads, moonlight... and so much more. My words won’t do justice to these past weeks, with so much in them. The mind and the heart remain filled with beauty, the eyes richer than before.

Above all, to all the great people we met along the way and made us feel so much at home in Copenhagen, Malmö and Akkerhaugen, a big thank you and a heartfelt hug.

See you next time!

Into twilight.