The wonder of wander

Poetry
Wander in English
Wandern in Deutsch
The wonder of both
As the sun shines outside.
 
Away from the chores
The ties of to-do.
Away from the sounds
Of the day, of tv and phone.
 
Into a forest 
On a hilly path
Walk into birdsong
Fragrance all around.

No fixed destination.
No real timeframe. 
The day is all ours,
no matter how long it takes.
 
Look up as you wander,
at the trees above. 
Green they were yesterday 
Now gold and rust. 
 
Zum wandern wir gehen
Alle zusammen 
I don't know the grammar 
behind all my German 🙂

Maybe we’ll see someone. 
Someone we know.
Also out for a walk 
in the fields and the woods. 
 
There could even be deer.
In a riverside meadow, 
out for a chew.
Or rabbits popping out to say hello! 
 
Wandern and wander 
Always in wonder
of this beautiful world
It's the best thing to do.

Journeys of the mind

Poetry
Where does your mind go 
When it's just wandering around?
What sights come forward?
What fragrances, what sounds?
 
Do you go backwards 
into times before?
Wish they were reality
as they once were. 
 
Or do you dream forward?
Wishes not yet met.
Make plans of their coming true.
How would it be if it was that?
 
How happy are you 
when your mind wanders off?
Does it journey into joy
or into anxiety or pain?
 
Journeys of the mind. 
Battles we fight.
No one else knows 
how hard is the strife.
 
Do you speak of your fears
With someone you trust
Or stay silent and conquer 
With self power alone?
 
Where does your mind go 
when it's just wandering around?
What sights come forward?
What fragrances, what sounds?

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One night in Vienna

Poetry
It happens every night
but one night I was also there.
To see the magic of the lights
As they lit up the Cathedral square. 
 
After dark, when night had fallen,
in the forests and the mountains.
The city hums an enchanted air
under street lights and every corner.
 
Cars whizzed past to unknown places.
Their smoky tail-lights blazing red.
Buildings stand behind in their splendour
Electric blue or Grün or Gelb.


A magical city
The ancient Vindobona
And me, 
one night in Vienna.


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Uncertain times

Poetry
Stay silent. Watch.
The crowds bray for blood.
One by one they come
for everyone.

The good, 
the noble 
and the brave. 
All those who choose to rise above. 

Speaking out now,
is in vain
They hear not. 
All they know is hate. 


They know not what it takes to build. 
To grow
To love
To learn new things.


So closed is their mind
So small their life 
Anyone who is not a clone of them
Is an enemy of the State. 

Presstitute and sickular, 
they crow in glee
Words they think are very smart.


Can they ever learn 
Secular
The nobility of the real word?

Then how can you expect 
Them to understand?

And  the crowds that bray for blood
One by one they turn
on everyone.

Their need is to have someone to hate. 
Anyone will do.
No matter who.  


Stay silent. Watch.
And wait a better time. 
Some day their hate will turn on themselves

Then your aggressor now
might even be the crowd’s target next.

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Thought of the day

Poetry
Leave a sign behind
don't just go.
Without a trace that you were here.
Let that mark be, one of good.
Giving strength 
to all who come from far and near.
 
Leave thoughts that build.
Deeds done that inspire.
Be a force that binds,
those who are coming behind.
 
But if you can't do as above,
then gently go.
Quiet.
Without a sign.
Break not what you have not created
Create not that in turn will divide.
 
Tread your path.
As we each must do
(be it alone, or together)
Let it lead towards the light
For darkness, is not the path to follow.
 
 I'm preaching 
Yes, and I apologise!
These times are such.
With much food for thought.
 
When you see a world you love
Hurting and broken 
In turmoil so unjust.
The mind wonders what needs be done.
Deeds that heal.
That 'humane' touch 

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Choices

Poetry
In my mind,
in my hands,
is the power to create.
And the power to destroy.

What I choose to do
makes me the person I am.

Centuries after centuries
Cultures and religions
Languages spoken,
foods cooked and eaten.

In all relations,
do you make something?
Or leave something broken?

Call it good and evil.
Call it right and wrong.
Call it what you will.
But that’s the one truth,
that applies to us all.

Follow this principle
and you‘ll identify truth from false.

Who talks of growth,
upliftment,
and room for all?

Who talks of fear,
conspiracies
enemies in each unknown?

Choose wisely
and hold firm this single truth.
Inclusion wins.
As does good.

Tell me now
Which will you choose?

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Thoughts while cooking

Poetry
As i stand in my kitchen,
cooking dinner for tonight.
Fresh and warm and nourishing,
comforting fragrant and so calming.

I think of women just like me.
Hiding underground, surrounded by family.
As above ring out the sirens.
Children cry in the darkness.

Whose is this war?
Why is it happening? 
So much power in one man‘s hands. 
What is man and what is mankind?

Rather what kind of man would cause this misery?
Is a man still a man if he goes against humanity? 

21 centuries and more in fact,
but civilization is still held hostage. 

Never learning, 
the biggest lesson learnt after invasions,
that a war solves few, 
if any, problems.
 
Dinner cooked, i check the seasoning,
thinking of people tonight going hungry. 
Brave people fighting to defend their country.
Heroes  every one of them. 

Honour goes to those who show bravery.
Those who build something, 
create peace and beauty.

Not to crazies wanting glory 
And destroying instead fragile humanity.

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BROWNS

Poetry
On my palette
dark and burnt and brown.
Colours that remained
After the greens were gone.
 
Soaked up with the heat
from every last ray of sun.
So to offer hopes of warmth
Now the year is done.
 
In snow, sheet and wind,
that Winters always bring,
when it's all white or grey
A brown so joyous is. 
 
Tree trunks emerging out from hollows
That piled high with snow drifts are
Tree trunks, their rich browns, a promise
For season's change and greens that follow. 
 
When it's summer and Browns forgotten, 
pinks and yellows lead the way.
Then I think back and on what's round the corner
In winters it's Browns that make my day. 

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From me to you. For our today…

Poetry
There was water
There was air
There was a perfect combination of elements.

There was the ground on which I stood
Soft and warm
Quite wonderful.

It is home
It is Earth
Beautiful
Beyond every word.

There are cities built by men
Buildings tall as the replaced mountains
So too are parks, gardens and greens
Like forests or an Oasis

Out in nature. 
Raw. Untouched.
Or in towns. 
With people and stuff.

A comfortable balance is the key.
A mix of both.
A world at peace.

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