Flowering Passion

Celebrate the real new year. That day in spring.
When nature bursts into a trillion flowers. No
other phase in earth’s journey around the sun,
will be as energetic as when seasons turn.

Life is expanding itself, no matter what we
believe or think or feel.

In case you reach the end of the world, part IV

There's something special about you.

Why else would Nature pick you as its sole survivor?
If not for the purity of your heart,
then for your trust.

Your trust in the righteousness of time.
Time doesn't judge and so don't you.
Time doesn't give or take. It just passes.
It doesn't reward or punish.
It's the human mind who does these things.

Except for yours.
You carry your weight and participate.

She Said

You are air like oxygen in a storm.
I am water like land flooded by raindrops.
A torch to light a candle.
A lion whispering love.
We rule the world and the night around it,
but not the time it's spinning, nor its ending
or its beginning.

A quick halo from the lowlands.

I picture you laughing
in the sun. The winter
is coming.
I need some sleep.

Amidst the falling leafs,
my greatest fear is
to forget you. To miss you,
without knowing.

To loose your name. To
share no past. To spend
a lifetime searching.

Makebelieve

I believe that below the mirroring surface of this pond another world exists.
And that when I take a better look, I'll see a boy looking at me.
Watching me from behind a tree.

I believe that if I jump I will not fall but fly,
past the clouds, through the thin blue air. Into that endless universe,
where time and place are made up by poets.

I believe that life would move very slowly. Or maybe not move at all.
Or maybe move by the speed of dreams.
Darkness, quietness and loneliness would be virtues,
not places to avoid.

I believe that I belong there. That I should morph into that rippling, glistening world.
Trade a mind for a conscious. A body for a soul.
Become the sea, the endless sea.

I believe that when I watch my final breath dissolve into thousand little bubbles,
hastily crawling towards the bleak sun,
I will be free.

I'm not afraid.

But I believe I have my purpose here. In this place,
at the edge of the pond. On this soil,
where gravity and the cycle of earth determine my being.
I'm needed. The world would collapse if I leave now.

So I stay.

I believe that boy is not watching me,
but watching over me.

He smiles.

Ben Scheffer, juli 2013

Far = Away (executed)

Watch the ocean
from a cabin,
from a britch,
through a port hole

Think (again):
"If I can turn back the hands of time,
this boat will be false, else
this goodbye will be true."

While I'm not free
and you're not here,
I know:
I should have missed you before I left.

Source code

Far = Away

do
   watch('ocean') {
      $from = "cabin";
      $from .= "britch";
      $from .= "port hole;
   }

   think {

      if (counterClockWise($handsOfTime))  {
         $this -> boat = false;
      } else {
         $this -> goodbye = true;
      }

      again

   }

   new $wisdom = "I should have missed you before I left";
   return $wisdom;

}

while ( I != "free" && U != "here" );

Ben Scheffer, 2011

Past-de-deux

While you enter the stage,
your hair seems to turn Gray,
and I know that your knees hurt,
when you do a plié.

As the lights in the background,
fade slowly to blue,
I see a young ballerina,
in an old lace tutu.

It used to be hard to believe,
that this life will not last,
or that the time that remains,
would go by so fast.

I wish I could give back,
those glorious days,
when you walked the glissade,
with wondrous grace.

But while the corps de ballet,
stays always the same,
the dancer in front,
will have a new name.

(Evonity / Ben Scheffer aug. 12th 2010)

On the phone with someone you love

A distant horizon. A projection
of hope and desire. A soft breeze that
turns the sky to dust. A single thought,
endlessly repeated. One name.
One image of someone not you.

You hold her hand. Try to see
beyond her eyes. Beyond the line
dividing heaven from earth.
The yin and yang of simple dreams,
and long lived illusions.

This used to be a blessing.
Like the time of life offered
to us on the day of birth.
But it seems jaded now and troubled
by debt.

If only the remaining days
could be freed from words. You
might see life beyond its ending.

The reign of truth restored.

Love at the union of souls.

Life takes place in the valley

That enlightened age of first thoughts,
when you were barely five and
unaware of life or its meaning.

In the growing shadows of the trees,
you heard the distant sound of joy.
Voices coming from the valley.

Boys who chase girls,
who see the universe fit
in the palms of their hands.

To breath wasn't a gift. To age was a desire.
The purpose of life was to run,
not to catch or to get caught.

We didn't think dark would last

We didn't think dark would last
and color purple trees. We
thought the day would break
and quench the emptyness.

The nothingness that
makes us steal time to make up
stories to stand the truth

When we counted life in hours
the world would fit in our hands
and awe us.
We left the worrying to the dead.

Stop the days from transitioning

For once keep a hold of the day. Stop
it from transitioning. Turn actions
into stills. Her changing moods
into portraits. Prevent the skin from
aging. The heart from wearing out. Or
let the days fade as they do, but then
prevent me from remembering.