CONTENTS
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Rita Summers
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Sweet Dreams 1 Sweet dreams. Let me dive back Into your candy coloured pictures. Your floating meaninglessness prepares me for a new day. Tomorrow I will search for answers again To the meaning of life, And why they burned the books. And why I did not stop them. I will search for the point of being, in distress I want to climb the mountain Moved by faith ... to absorb energy ... And gain answers ... To do the things I cannot do by myself. I want to find the God who helps the ones Who help themselves. Will I recognise HIM? Stop suppressing your passion to explore ... The universe and yourself. Come with me Now I will be so ... alone ... on the top of the mountain. Has the moon spoken to me? I did not understand it through the sound of infinity ... Perhaps it was the echo of voices calling me back? Or the melody of eternity? © Ella Janssen Sweet Dreams 2 Above the clouds I understood that it was A matter of acceptance, a gift. Everything, the ocean, the river, love. The silhouette of a tree made me understand Everything is there, was there, will be there If we accept it, grasp it, hold it Indefinitely. I did not have to climb the mountain But faith is so fragile in these days like glass And space is needed to collect wisdom. The layer of your dreams is a spider-web. A sticky hammock in which you wait For answers you already know. © Ella Janssen
If love is nourishment I have enough to feed this world. If food for thought is medicine I have enough to heal the human race. Regrettably the taste has changed Together with the wish for healing. Today we stuff ourselves With anything that quickly gratifies. Today we need no healing Just drugs to make us numb. Adrenalin, money or religion, Sex, work-outs, Anything to make us tough. It doesn't matter what we swallow As long as we get it now And get enough, While our tolerance grows quickly higher With all the input Added day by day. We have lost sight Of things that really matter And all together blind We lost our way. © Ella Janssen
The South Pacific moon is always a lantern It is one that rises with the regularity of flying fish to show its mutant crescent or its smile Today after a night of silver we celebrate spirits together at the house by the sea You might be my friend you might be my brother you might like to share the moon or its shine Sea spumes extinguish the lantern in the capsule of time. © Ella Janssen
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