Silvia Hartmann writes: Three poems, three Project Sanctuary experiences, three habitats - different places in time and space that one may return to and explore further, which may become base camps in foreign lands and which may well hold much magic. In the second poem, there is a portal to a very distant place - "The other side of morning".
You can listen to it here and the texts are there as well. Enjoy!
And so the morning slowly gives away the long awaited russet hour
And from the green hills, we can see the distant horizons. There are no cities here, there are no graveyards, there is nothing but beauty and tranquility all around us
No one goes to war no one builds cathedrals anymore.
There is no reason and no need to spend the day in other than a joyous acceptance of the morning light.
On the Other Side Of Morning
Write me a poem Write me a song make it loud and make it strong declare your future, yours and mine.
Fall on me in in sweetest wisdom words which float beneath the tides and all we hear is waves that rush and whisper ancient knowledges again and yet again they stand.
You walk the shore you walk to water’s edge and those who know they listen with their feet their wing tips touching tiny bubbles, foam and swiftly, all that wonderment is nothing more but here and now –
We enter there and there lies grace itself revealed, revered and so beloved - oh, what can I say to you?
How can I call your name in such a way that you will turn your head upon your slender neck - skywards you gaze seawards you gaze the breeze is lifting up your hair – ah, come to me beloved child of stony shores of lonely nights, of summers that were never bright!
Now raise your wings and feel the lifting, feel the rushing, come to me my love, my only one!
Don’t heed the voices in your head that tell you there is nothing there that you will soon exhaust yourself in endless search again – My child of beauty, come to me, steadfast your heart and rising from within, the deepest hunger, longing, desperation for your journey home to me.
I need you too, your youth and beauty, I need your glorious wings to stroke my skin – rise!
Rise, fly and close your eyes, my call to you will bring you home.
Don't seek a lighthouse nor an island in the stormy sea instead you see a mirror in the sky clear silver blue and that will be your portal –
I await you on the other side of morning.
The Halls Of Marble & Ice
Many centuries ago, we walked amidst the halls of marble and of ice we stood upon the ancient towers and viewed the land below.
The sky was blue and white clouds were gentling the landscape as we stood
I turned to you and said, What is this vision, is this day? And you laughed and said, "The wine is good today."
And later, we will simply fly and dance.
I remember you.
I shook my head and turned away, I couldn't help but share your smile.
I took your hand and so we went into the halls of marble and of ice, children we were, and yet, the oldest ones of all.
Today I have returned.
In timeless splendour, all is at it was.
But now, I can appreciate it all. And I await you here. My arrival heralds yours, as well.
"You have probably heard the classical question, "What book would you bring along if you were to spend the rest of your life on a desert island?". Well, after having read Project Sanctuary, your answer will be an easy one." Helena Sweden