You see the wind, you feel it shove,
it tugs at hats, scarves, coats.
The clouds are hurrying above
driving away all motes.
The air is fresh and smells of salt,
that’s carried by the gust.
Your taste buds notice by default
a proper drink’s a must.
But then you wait and breathe and stay
deeply moved by the show.
Your face is covered by the spray
before you turn and go.
Long after it you can still hear
the crashing of the surf.
For you one thing is crystal clear:
the sea is your home turf.
Your notion of a house is shaken
by these blocks of wood.
Although their outer forms are taken
from what we built for good.
Today, however, different shapes
can drill into the sky,
for concrete, steel and glass and tapes
don’t hinder us to try.
Blockhouses made of wood still pull
their magic comfortable card.
The easy life feels wonderful
when cities stressed you hard.
Maybe the former trees enchant,
the wood might speak to you.
And even though you know it can’t
you understand it’s true.
Only in winter the tree can show
all its fine branches and twigs.
In summer with leaves you’d hardly know
the beautiful and pointed sprigs.
They point at the sky above or below
towards the basis and roots of the tree.
Whereby the expert is certain to know
which species of tree we here see.
But for an ignorant person like me
this view of a tree with the sky
is a pleasure, as nature can often be,
whose beauty could just make me cry.
The sun has set, but still you see its shine
that yet with power lights the sky,
the far horizon now appears as a dark line
on which the sails do slightly tilted lie.
To sail into the sunset means “go west”,
whereby you see the sun a second longer.
But finally you, too, will have to rest.
After some sleep the morning sees you stronger.
This strength helps you to cover the next miles
crossing the emptiness of the vast ocean.
Perhaps you pass some smaller isles,
leave them behind in forward motion.
How many sunsets will have come and gone
until you reach your aim depends on you.
The sun will shine as it has always shone,
you follow your ambition to come true.
Water falls, it weighs a lot,
so, of course, it tumbles
down through every smaller slot
where the topsoil crumbles.
And in rain it often pours
and soaks open spaces.
If too much it causes bores
and floods public places.
The power of the water should
obviously be respected,
fatalities easily could
otherwise be detected.
But, see, water can also rise
in tiny drops of dew.
And then we see them in the skies
as clouds – that’s nothing new.
The victory of vegetables seems to expand,
for people like living more healthy.
And those who eat products from closeby land
necessarily need not be wealthy.
Although, one must say, that the farming of those
means more work and thus power and trouble.
So depending on what the customer chose
the price can often be double.
To stalls like this you come and see
a caring hand presenting
plenty of greens which like to be
your food, illness preventing.
The victory would be complete
if we began to understand
that global efforts to compete
endanger life and land.
Unpolished manners do not suit
when invited to a formal ball.
And they are not considered cute,
for elegance is the first call.
Unpolished shoes not either fitting.
The host will hate to find some dirt
on polished flooring slowly gritting
or leave some muddy clods that squirt.
So polishing seems necessary
when your appearance has to shine.
Otherwise people will be wary
of someone who steps out of line.
It is not easy to see the light.
A dark background, however, shows
that contrasting beams are bright,
which the darker rays disclose.
You see the light, you understand
what was meant to see.
The light lends you a helping hand,
shows what you want to be.
Sometimes it’s perfect to say no
to ways that you disclaim.
You will not hear “I told you so”
after you lost your aim.
All our life depends on light
which gives us food and hope.
So all it takes is see and fight
the dark, and you can cope.
The storm whips waves into a froth,
leaves deep troughs in between.
The sky is covered by a cloth
of clouds, wild to be seen.
When half an hour or so before
the sea was calm and flat
you would have doubted such a war
could break out just like that.
No matter what the water weighs
it’s tossed and turned and hit.
It moves up like a horse that brays
its roaring pains with spit.
In storms like these with iron hands
you steer your ship with care,
keep it on course that it withstands,
and wind and waves can bear.
Those were the days when, caught in black and white,
a telephone booth served communication.
You needed coins and sometimes had to fight
to feed the slot real fast in concentration.
If you were lucky you could find the number
in directories provided but worn out.
But often such a search proved to be dumber
because the page you needed was torn out.
The privacy then of your conversations
was mostly granted, unless only half
a booth could reduce the impatience
of those who waited, looking at your calf.
Today the privacy seems more neglected.
You can hear everything that people say.
And people’s legs are no longer detected
when callers keep their eyes on the display.