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Appearing out of fog a boat approaches land – a common sight to Danish eyes that, from the distant strands of memory in greeting wants to raise a hand.
Do not approach the hill whereon the oak trees grow; there underneath the stones and underneath the snow is resting unknown people from times left far behind; mind say: “it’s safe to go there,” heart: “you’re out of your mind!”
A misty morning – sunrise glows on mist and clouds and overspills on this one hilltop with its rocks and trees as morning mist is torn by morning breeze.
I made a drawing years ago where I stood, back towards the viewer facing a cloud-covered sea; how strange then to discover such long time afterwards that I had lost by well 200 years and that the motif wasn’t mine…
Curling branches, barren twigs outlasting seasons’ changes – mist and snow and weathered walls and weathered gravestones under evening’s ill-foreboding skies could never outlast you, oak trees, you stood there long before them and long after their time you’ll probably […]
A weathered, nature-tempered rock adorned by mosses, crowned with trees stretching stiffened branches out to reach the top that is withheld from reach – A wonder to remember that the treetops came and went and were returned to their original […]
There is a grim foreboding of which I cannot speak although I should – there are no words awarded me for knowledge I have gained although I would – I’d speak if words would come and tell the truth; the […]
Majestic rising in the distance, clouds and tower competition won by birds above however, flying through the golden skies with a cry for day’s completion – tired wandering now home, through approaching dark that broods high above and down below […]
Some fading stripes of sunset stays as sun has left and moon arisen – behind the gate of memory waits your face till life’s completion.
A reverential gesture to the light that warms the heart and keeps it warm through day and night alike and light it up with more than sunbeams’ might –
A flock of ravens settled all around yet you, sole figure, rooted in the ground remain a solitary sight as all around descends the night.
We‘ve watched as earth and sky, the sun and air would blend and yet the unity of things is something that we fail to comprehend.
What matters it that you could climb a mountaintop to see the view if what is in your mind remains a mystery to you? True wisdom is to understand that mind and matter are the same; that you’re the same […]
Silence at dusk, reverential stillness as night descends with the sun’s last kiss – darkness will soon overcome the moment; how could you capture this moment’s bliss?
Pine trees sticking out of mist as floating in the air – silence only met by birdsong hovers everywhere – sunrise on the water, burning banks and sky – a breeze will soon disturb it all, the morning die – […]
Through the gorge and into the hills, the steep cliffs rise with occasional trees as silent witnesses to the scene. A fellow of theirs lies dead in the gorge, they pay homage with their silence.
To such a sight I’d gladly wake yet I fear that if I were to do my mind would be dulled by the dreamlike view and my senses disappear and fade with the distant mountains and the morning dew…
A master-sky of brushstrokes and a lonely, thoughtful tree – what an expressive demonstration; I see you and I see me, I see an artist’s soul in nature’s imagery.
Wall of clouds – I see you though arise behind it – torn by horizons seem the world, yet ships transcend them; I see them come towards you as you rise to be adored, above the cloud-wall and beyond the […]
Temporal things destroy temporal things and what remains? The ice that sank the boat will melt and both remain as nothing but their names.