There Are People…


Quite some time ago on my blog I use to post poetry that was not mine but had caught my eye…or, to be precise – had touched strings of my heart in one way or another. “There Are People” by Latvian poet Imants Ziedonis…you know, it just seems to hit the raw nerve when the world is out of balance.

There are people – very deep-hearted.
It almost seems they don’ t have heart at all.
Are they evil? Are they lovely?
When do they laugh? And when do they cry?

You thought you could cover the world with storms,
Dazzling joy, so painfully sharp!
Leaving and moving on, just later to notice –
Nothing has even happened yet.

There are people – very deep-hearted.
It seems they realise nothing at all,
But deep down inside love
Keeps breaking stones with bruised hands.

Bruised hands, without a single word
It breaks stones and crushes piece by piece.
It builds the world, destroys it
To rase and build all over again.

Where is your “love”, and where is your “want”?
Where is your tree, and where is your branch?
Where is your path to infinity?
Where is your plow and the one to plow?

Who are your friends, and whom do you love?
It seems you realise nothing at all.
There are people – very, very deep-hearted.
They laugh at you and they weep with you when you fall.

The Līgo Haibun Challenge – Sense Of Home


This week there are two prompts for the Līgo Haibun Challenge:
Treasure      or      Despair.
After giving some thought to them I ended up at the place where everything usually starts from…

There have been roads, so many of them that all can’ t be found in my memory files anymore. The places pinned on the map quite a few times that the holes in the paper are supposed to tell stories of their own. About going away and returning. For a longer time and not so long but the feeling of coming back home has always been special. Like setting free from the rib cage a trembling sparrow…to finally let me breathe.

weary traveler
from all roads of the world
old one leads home

“Home wasn’t a set house, or a single town on a map. It was wherever the people who loved you were, whenever you were together.” /S.Dessen/ Yes, I must admit it has hardly had anything to do with mind but everything – with heart. That tiny corner of the world where pieces of my life’ s puzzle are all over the place. Framed memories of the past, vibrating present and dreamy future. A bit dusty on the shelves, nicely hanging in the wardrobe, almost hidden behind the cupboard doors and forgotten under the bed. Yet all there, all so very much present.

Looking at the walls, I remember laughter of my friends trying to make the wallpaper stick. Deep conversations until the break of dawn. Celebrating ourselves and life. Finding peace in the flickering flame of the last candle. Things are not just things there, they are knitted together with feelings. Echoes of giggles and tears, sounds and silence, leaving and always returning. A part of me – the microcosmos, though connected to the big world out there, still having an order of its own. My treasure.

within four walls
i build the world of my own
the door is open

The Līgo Haibun Challenge

Footprints On The Heart

There’ re moments in life when something just clicks…in its own way. And we meet people whose life stories not just inspire us, take our breath away by the light shining from them but also bring back memories.  Of different colours but all of them so precious. Today I read a blog of an amazingly strong woman whose battles with the unexpected, physically and mentally tough turns in life lasts for 18 years. She is there – among everything else also writing, taking photos filled with so much love, positivity and belief in tomorrow. In her. Worth more than just a simple admiration. A moment or two to think. About the dear people in our lives. About the ones who have left footprints that will never disappear. To be treasured and remembered.

18 years ago I had started my first year in university and applied for a program to spend summer as a counselor in a camp in the USA. Some 4 months after all the forms were filled in and sent I received a letter from the camp director with all the details. Including the fact it was the camp for children with cancer. I had lost my grandfather to cancer not too long ago therefore…next to joy and excitement about being accepted (there was a possibility also not to be, of course) there were doubts, some concerns. About how it would be. I was looking at all that from the wrong perspective, I just didn’ t know that yet. Opinions of my friends weren’ t helpful at all – they were rather sure the placement was meant for somebody with a medical background or at least psychological one. The decision to go anyway turned out to be among the best ones I have ever made. I ended up in a different world – in many ways and those 2 summers (I returned also next year) did change me. In the way I perceived people, values and priorities, my understanding of what really matters and how much light there can be in the moments you expect it the least. What is the true meaning of hope and that there can always be found a place for it.

There won’ t be sad stories about heavy moments, no. I remember joy, laughs and bursting positivity from early morning till late night.  Unlimited energy sparkling around – either it was climbing the wall, playing theatre, drawing, swimming, adventures in the forest…you name it! There was always wish to be a part of everything, the feeling of a friendly shoulder. Many of them! Yes, next to bruised knees – also the moments of much more serious health problems we all knew existed and nobody pretended they didn’ t. Just…they never dominated. Receiving letters from friends back home feeling sorry for how difficult my summer must have been I had no clue what they were talking about. Since difficult were only goodbye’ s. There was happiness in the air. Love of life. And so much smiles around. Genuine ones. Amazing people. Creative and crazy in the best meaning of the word. I shared a room with a girl who after being a camper for a long time had returned as a volunteer like many did. Jen became one of my dearest friends also after the camp, a friend for life as we thought.  Life itself made some corrections in our plans – she lost her fight with leukemia just a few years later. But that is another story maybe for another time. Where tones are different and the line “I used to believe in forever, but forever is too good to be true” from the good old A.A.Milne’ s book unfortunately turned out to be true.

There’ re some friends from those days I am still in touch with – in several parts of the world, and no matter where life has taken us, we will always have something to share. Memories. About the „island”  of pure joy, love and hope. 

The first two photos – image courtesy of Google