Petra Hermans's Blog: The Religion of The Blue Circle, page 30

My prismatic silence

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

My prismatic silence

I had those magnetic balls

in my two hands, at the age of 12 years.

He couldn’t just remember All, of it.

Rules in sky above our universe

are silent, white and lovely.

I cannot tell.

It became a new House,

after six, I tell, you.

The magnetic balls were soon,

taken far away in one sight

of my deepest touch.

It is the colour of all colours,

reached out to by one heart,

lost further than Time

because she had nothing in the world.

Try it, you try to love a small, white stone.

It is the dream of a woman, she never knew

what the prism of water was, until

she found, you!

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

September 18, 2019

© 2019 Petra Hermans

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9957073-on-the-right-sharpest-light-of-all-touched-my-heart

Photograph II : My white and blue Crystal Ball at Home and in my House

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A crowned face

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

A crowned face

The way, he smiled

is not the way, he laughed.

One of a family, he expects,

one particular child, unexpectedly.

The driver needed two hours,

to look forward, after half an hour,

wasted as walk down in my woods.

He said, on that light, the living room

has all his flowers of autumn, blue and white!!

You know, I have to know it, certainly

when he doesn’t like his joke,

to tell the crowd of silent children.

I hear them.

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

September 16, 2019

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9955611-the-history-teacher-tried-to-be-severe-but-german-lessons

© 2019 Petra Hermans

Marianne Fredriksson – Noreas saga,

© Marianne Fredriksson, 1983

Marianne Fredriksson – Norea, dochter van Eva,

De kinderen van het paradijs

Uitgeverij De Geus bv, Breda 2004

ISBN 90 5226 656 5

NUR 302

Hoofdstuk 15, pagina 124

“In Lil bevonden zich de doden, dat had Norea begrepen.

Op een zeker moment tijdens de lange ceremonie had ze Kaïn

weer naast Eva zien staan, in een hernieuwde poging om met

haar in contact te komen. Maar haar moeder was ongevoelig

voor Lil, dat had Kaïn moeten weten, vond Norea.

De oude koningin was er niet geweest, ze had het waarschijnlijk

te druk met haar kinderen bij de zee.

In den beginne was het woord, hadden de priesters gezegd.

Dat klonk plechtig. Norea genoot ervan om die zin te herhalen.

Niet omdat ze precies begreep wat ermee bedoeld werd. De god

van de hemel had een woord uitgesproken en toen was de aarde

en alles daarop ontstaan. Nog steeds hadden de goden geen andere

manier om in verbinding met de mensen te treden dan door woorden,

had men haar gezegd.

Zij vond dat vreemd, kon denken dat dat niet voor haar gold.

Ze wist immers dat je zonder woorden met de goden spreken kon,

zo dacht ze terwijl ze over de vlakte reed, de groep ruiters en draagstoelen

soms ver vooruit. Lil vloog door haar haar en vervulde haar met vreugde.

Toen besefte ze opeens met een schok dat ze nu een woord had

voor het onuitsprekelijke, een woord dat niet begrensde.

In den beginne was het woord.”

Photograph II : Marianne Fredriksson – Noreas saga (1983)

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I remember you

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

I remember you

It was in the middle class.

Some light, far in the white,

touched the grounds of all my levels.

It was in a Time, no one saw, only he did,

I have seen it so often.

The music sounded familiar,

almost extraordinary,

and then again,

I saw the Light, white and grey.

She knew, she has known it,

more than forever.

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

September 15, 2019

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9950593-it-was-a-midwinter-s-dream-his-idea-and-a-bit

© 2019 Petra Hermans

Enya – A day without rain (2000), Only time,

© 2000 Warner Music UK Ltd.

Photograph II : Enya – A day without rain, Only time

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Silver star dream

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Silver star dream

Far away, a lot of blankets,

covering earth and our universe,

were falling down, on me.

Far far away, as it seemed

to be cold, in there,

that place of space,

her hands raised more borders,

lines and Sunshines.

As she was standing,

a sky changed,

white, purple, blue, red

into yellow, orange, green, rose.

It felt like summer in an Ice cold Heaven!

And, yes, I admit, in her eye,

between body, soul and mind,

that one little bit tiny tinkle

of a sound, started a new day!

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

September 6, 2019

© 2019 Petra Hermans

Enya, Amarantine (2005), Long long journey,

© 2005 Warner Music UK Ltd.

Photograph II : Enya – Amarantine, Long long journey

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The white branch

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

The white branch

At the side

of the place,

no one was there,

to be found.

The dark new light

gave her light green eyes

which did not need

green bright eyes.

The whitest branch

did not move,

moment in Time was gone,

fully and completely.

A sound wrote the moon

in Sun and dark clouds,

anyway the branch had lost

a bench, anywhere.

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

September 5, 2019

© 2019 Petra Hermans

Enya – Amarantine (2005), Less than a pearl,

© 2005 Warner Music UK Ltd.

Photograph II : Enya – Amarantine, Less than a pearl

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Pair of gloves

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Pair of gloves

I wanted new clothes,

to cycle, to play tennis

and run in my fields.

Sixteen and seventeen years,

I suppose.

It was a basement

in a story, the city

where I live, now.

People and sounds had

disappeared, all of a sudden.

I doubted, at that moment,

but I could not, just could not buy

anything, out of there.

Then, I decided, slowly

to walk away, out of that

new base.

I saw then,

far away,

the easiest way

is something,

I will never,

ever forget!

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

September 2, 2019

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9937819-nuenen-may—june-2018-brought-me-till-the-day

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9189832-een-medium-dat-scherp-helder-bekwaam-alles-bekijkt-zal-tevreden

© 2019 Petra Hermans

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9827118-a-piece-of-art-is-not-written-thought-or-dreamed

Enya – May It Be, The Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring,

Original motion picture soundtrack, © 2001 New Line Productions, Inc.

Photograph II : Enya – May It Be, The Lord of the Rings

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The oldest corridor

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

The oldest corridor

Somehow, something

was making me, upset,

that afternoon.

I left the House,

turned over the old streets

and saw dark, grey and brown clouds.

Friends of these days,

right, left, whispering

of good, old news.

I was losing, time, I knew,

I felt, so.

Somewhere, I hurried

at the schoolyard;

almost the very same theatre,

at the End.

They did not know

where to start, to begin.

Attached, and touched

to the schoolbooks,

I somehow, left them,

all questioning.

In the school, door opened

by a peculiar musician,

darkness watered over me,

did not stop me from dreaming.

In the last window,

light shined

into my eyes.

The walls have

embraced that painting.

They were waiting

for the words without letters,

music and tones did not reach,

one purpose.

I walked, on the right,

last classes as I already knew,

forgotten in my mind.

As you see, on the schoolyard,

the late afternoon, left

one silent singing of the wind!

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

September 1, 2019

© 2019 Petra Hermans

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9937821-it-could-have-been-a-mighty-feeling-of-a-thought

Photograph II : The Blue Ball

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A small sensitivity

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

A small sensitivity

With my head,

on a small table,

I bowed over my literature.

In silence, a part between my friends.

All those days, however,

rooms of windows,

houses and glasses,

were a shining darkness,

in my blue blue eyes.

I never looked, at you,

because I did not need to watch.

The way, I felt

is next to, and above

your great altitude.

It is a small girl, a little village

and old, dusty books.

The teacher does not look

at these books because she

shares it, with the one small

sensitive friend, in her clothes.

She looked, at a sound

and after a moment, continues

to write, as time was heard

on her desk, late at night.

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

August 31, 2019

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9940194-u-had-daar-niets-over-te-zeggen

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9939809-it-is-not-my-world-it-is-my-universe

© 2019 Petra Hermans

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9939812-goed-gewerkt-motje

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9947846-in-silent-waters-i-fall-in-leaves-across-meadows-fields

Photograph II : The Blue Ball

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The latest candle

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

The latest candle

I thought, I would have

asked you, to write an essay.

A sort of review,

a look, a watch

over a new book.

I have thought, twice

to ask you a question

but the answer went away,

far beneath all rivers and oceans.

I had it All

in my mind,

and nevertheless

it was all a waste of time.

You see, an author

does not write, in that way.

She just dreams, all of her

nights, away.

The closed eyes watched

her eye, slowly in silent Sunlight.

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

August 30, 2019

© 2019 Petra Hermans

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9946555-the-silence-during-my-night-opened-a-new-day-besides

Marianne Fredriksson – Noreas saga,

© Marianne Fredriksson, 1983

Marianne Fredriksson – Norea, dochter van Eva,

De kinderen van het paradijs

Uitgeverij De Geus bv, Breda 2004

ISBN 90 5226 656 5

NUR 302

Hoofdstuk 19, pagina 154

“De blinde vrouw verheugde zich. Het kind

van de berg van An bracht zegen, het wonder moest gezien

worden als een teken dat Inanna de gebeden van haar oude

getrouwe dienares had verhoord en Norea onder haar goddelijke

bescherming had genomen.

Maar de gebeurtenis bracht Norea niet nader tot anderen,

het vergrootte de afstand juist, vergrootte de leegte om haar heen.”

Photograph II : Marianne Fredriksson – Noreas saga (1983)

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The whitest tower

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

The whitest tower

Above all rivers

above all waters,

a silent watcher

has her place.

Beyond any kind

of charism,

beyond all forms

of ordinary normalcy,

grey clouds have become

darker till white and yellow

harvests were lost, completely.

In harmony, I live,

I think, every touch of the heart.

Do not think, it is easy.

In my time,

I’d like to say

it is good

to see and feel,

a white idea has settled,

higher than all ladders,

stairs of streets

can ever reach, out to.

I know that,

I have been looking

for the whitest tower,

all of my love.

It doesn’t exist.

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

August 29, 2019

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9944625-the-whitest-tower-is-higher-than-any-cloud-fog-or

© 2019 Petra Hermans

Marianne Fredriksson – Den som vandrar om natten,

© Marianne Fredriksson, 1988

Marianne Fredriksson – De nachtwandelaar

Uitgeverij De Geus bv, Breda 2003

ISBN 90 5226 657 3

NUR 302

Deel 5, pagina 399

“Toen hij terugkwam was Anjalis uit bed opgestaan.

Hij zat in een stoel bij het raam, een beetje voorovergebogen

om de pijn van de wonden op zijn rug te verlichten.

Ik zat te denken aan de reis naar Ur die we ooit samen hebben

gemaakt. Je was destijds pas elf jaar, maar je herinnert je het vast

nog wel.

Marcus’ hart bonkte zo dat hij het dienblad bijna liet vallen.

Hij zette het neer, schonk de thee in en gaf daarna pas antwoord.

Ik herinner me er alle geuren van, iedere windvlaag, iedere hand

die hij streelde. De woestijn, de sterrenhemel, Me Rete die zoveel

genegenheid toonde, de ogen van je vader.

Het bleef even stil, waarna Marcus vervolgde: ‘Ik geloof dat Balthazar

de enige echt door en door goede mens is die ik heb gekend.’

Anjalis keek verwonderd, maar hij knikte en zei: ‘Hij leefde een

eenvoudig leven, met maar één doel en een groot geloof.’

Photograph II : Marianne Fredriksson – Den som vandrar om natten (1988)

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