TRANSFORMATION + GROWTH + LONGING

It is cloudy today and I am giving birth to something I don't know yet. The desert storm picks itself up from the ground, surrounds me and eats me up alive; through my eyes, my mouth, my fingers; exploding through my navel. I am turning inside myself. Surrender. Its rising call for me turns my bones to dust, my skin into the air that touches it. Before me the surface of the lake lies there, still and cool, surrounded by dark forest.

No ripples breaking its smooth, icy surface. But below the currents are strong and dangerous. Strong. Strong storm under water: rupturing, swallowing. Waiting to break out to the surface – changing the landscape, turning into the winds, shaking the pine trees and their forever-greeness. I wish it would break the the smooth surface, because the currents are getting stronger; afraid to being sucked up into the depths of this earth before I can show my face.

One large suction and it is all gone. The lake. The storm. And I burst through. With pain and laughter. Breathing like for the first time. Dry, empty land on which first organisms will settle, ever so busily; soon the dust will be covered with green and luscious gras and bushes – and all that was before will be forgotten. It all lies there – ever so peacefully – next to the pinetrees, who swing softly in the breeze and sing the song of my bones. Those who keep the memories of the lake. The guards of time. The guards of secrets. Giants of silent secrets. Time forgets. And I keep turning within.These rooms of time and self. You can choose to dance in the dust or turn a blind eye to it. Choose.

All texts © Katrin Riedel-Kelly.
Please contact the author if you wish to use parts of the texts.