Petra Hermans's Blog: The Religion of The Blue Circle, page 126

One language

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

One language

I do not think

it was Able, who made a mistake.

I’d rather think

it was a rabbit.

I think, it should have been Otto,

sure, definitely.

Somehow, a tower needs

a little bit more

than bricks, I should say.

You have a profession,

how do they call it,

of being more than human.

I slightly can remember,

my memory is a bit stronger.

It was that man,

a man in my mirror.

A house full of mirrors

will ask more than one expectation.

It is a family trait.

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

March 8, 2019

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2382488478

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1639888467

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1664585409

© 2019 Petra Hermans

Photograph II : Berkel-Enschot, the Netherlands, St. Willibrord Church

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White moments

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

White moments

Silently, she moves inside her house.

She touches, the walls that did not come down.

Silently, she crosses the bridges, she already crossed,

without ever how to forget.

I have come, another direction

by some sort of way

it would mean more to you.

A silence has been touched in a silence.

It is All

in a way of describing

the fall of autumn in spring water and summer fields.

A man looks with his pen,

in my face.

White moments.

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

March 8, 2019

© 2019 Petra Hermans

Photograph II : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

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Deep connection

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Photograph I : Michael Ende – Die unendliche Geschichte (1979)

Deep connection

He was alone.

He was alone in the House.

He thought, in the way,

spirits do.

He wrote a love song.

Tears do not exist in Heaven.

I was young, ever since.

A body breathes through our universe,

all the time.

I remember, one hard day of falling leaves,

one hard line, I felt it.

He was alone, in his house, not quite exactly.

He is there all the time.

His hair turned grey,

he bows and smiles.

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

March 8, 2019

© 2019 Petra Hermans

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1639822059

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1639822122

Photograph II : Michael Andreas Helmut Ende

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Moon behind river

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Moon behind river

A moon hides behind a river.

She has been there, for a long time;

hardly she ever remembers.

A moon has been hiding,

for a reason, one reason,

all the time.

It was not a long time, she has been waiting.

When it is time, it will All become timeless.

A moon has been shining in a river,

she did not hide.

If time announces full moon,

half moon is one, two times.

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

March 7, 2019

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1639828676

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1639822624

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2383305390

© 2019 Petra Hermans

Photograph II : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

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Two dimensions

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Two dimensions

In silence

I look in open space.

As a child

the scholar never understood

a light under the Road.

It was not in my body

but in dignity of universal laws,

that rules became whiter, ever more,

I could have taken, and take it.

The sky shows two dimensions,

I easily give my life.

Love is not a dedication,

not the eyes, a master writes.

It is the hand of a magician

that lost the first word, never to think.

I think, I hold the white stick

to open the light in your eyes.

Green trees hide a shelter,

you may think.

But I may say 1 word.

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

March 7, 2019

© 2019 Petra Hermans

Photograph II : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

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Time is gone

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Time is gone

The distance between my head and the ground

is a bridge, lately.

I have been talking houses, candles and clouds

but I can not touch the silver heart.

I look for golden and diamond is not even there,

half way, nowhere road.

My feet are born of stone toes,

you can not hear my hands, leave

the shelter of my favourite blue coat.

You gaze or stare, but don’t say.

It’s just that simple thing,

when you serve time, unconditional

as a redemption, I may not say,

I must admit, I did not fail;

I could not.

A clock on the wall shines in the night.

My hands know it.

I hear, every time, when the clock strikes 12.

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

March 7, 2019

© 2019 Petra Hermans

Photograph II : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

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Silence is

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Silence is

In the morning, the evening falls.

I haven’t heard this pen writing,

for a long time, by now.

I have been trying to listen,

I tried, I did and really, I try.

It is, when I relax,

I forget my past, present and future,

for there no future is,

will be another day.

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

March 7, 2019

© 2019 Petra Hermans

Photograph II : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

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Expensive cahier

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Expensive cahier

I have been writing

since someone gave me the pen,

of an author, a poet or writer.

Three poems a day

each morning sing joy and belief

because of my spirit.

There are people, really, in a country,

they said to have a job, a profession or occupation.

It is just, how you would call it.

There were people without clothes.

Somehow, a decent way of manners

has its way.

There is no one in the chair

on the other side of the table.

Nobody sits in a chair.

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

March 7, 2019

© 2019 Petra Hermans

Photograph II : An expensive cahier

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Altruism

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Altruism

I have a typical way of walking.

It changed in the way my responsibility

lives behind the two eyes.

At night, late in the evening

I am my spiritual entity.

I have a particular way

of turning my head, suddenly.

It is my sensitivity in silent, white hands.

The way of my body

belongs to the soul.

Late at night,

in the evening,

I am looking forward.

Altruism is in the way,

my hands know one gesture.

The evening brought a master.

The afternoon brings the student.

A morning in white light

is a teacher who never dreamed about

a brighter sight!

Morning and evening have become one.

The way of the wind lives in my hairs.

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

March 6, 2019

© 2019 Petra Hermans

Photograph II : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

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White time

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

White time

White walls love

white sheets and white pillows.

Soft and gentle hands touch slowly the time,

she has become time, itself.

Nowadays, I need time, to open my eyes,

in the morning and in the evening

I look at the light, as usual, as I always did

and do.

Sounds do not reach my soul

in white pillows, more than heaven.

She said,

she had not forgotten, me.

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

March 6, 2019

© 2019 Petra Hermans

Photograph II : The Crystal Ball which rests in my hands, Petra Hermans

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