Scheidewege - The Lunar Phases
Seek for Dreams
Loss of a Memory
Open your Heart
Rise and Shine
Flower of Time
What secrets are hidden, what do you want to tell me?
Mom’s roses and starry skies.
The bluebells, I listened to the carillon. It told me about what does not exist but still exists.
At the same time a balmy summer wind, I saw them. Mourning cloaks that lay on your skin. Just a short while and they were gone.
Sometimes I could see you so clearly and distinctly, I understood who you were. But then you were hidden and I groped. I saw that every human being is a mystery, even you.
Oh, sisters of summer, I want to learn from you.
In the flowers of summer she found you. Just as you felt in her cupped hand, life feels.
We created new paths, in laughter and play we took care of the seriousness. And I learned, together you are less alone.
I followed your movements, let them lead me.
And all this beauty, is there enough space?
You said it would not be the same, you can not preserve the present. But this is what we need to do.
I will dance with daisies until the darkness is dispelled. Let there be light.
It is freedom to choose whether one is visible or not. And when I hide for too long, I want to be found.
Did you touch the secrets of the water?
In your next movement, I heard the roar of the wings.
In the force field
Small drops on a transparent layer of skin. I get the summer into my bloodstream.
We finished the game before it was over. That’s how we kept it.
We took turns, changing sides. So we merged.
We went through time, you had been there before.
Where the rivers meet. This is our place.
We were well prepared, made ourselves beautiful.
I saw you hold her. I still feel it. I know the color, shape, weight but never how long she stays.
Smilla and the Mimosa
Write your Story
Next to you
Seek for Dreams
Do not Forget
Do Not Forget – I just want you to remember
Bouquet of Autumn
Build me up Buttercup
Sisters of Mercy
Necklace to wear
Sky of Roses
Spring will come Again
Roses from the Market
Out of Reach
It´s Your Day
Ingrid and the Yellow Coneflower
It is only with the heart that one can see rightly
Stina and the Rosebuds