I promised you a word about Sunday... but unfortunately the pictures are not coming soon.
Therefore, as compensation you will get to read a poem of mine, which I wrote in a difficult time - end of 2011 - in the hope that it may help some of you.
I hope you like it, dear readers (in English it will most likely not rhyme; who knows if the meaning will be preserved?):
We imagine the ground,
Because it is without colors:
Clear as glass and unknown
And yet they can still sense scars.
They hold the structure firmly,
What we have experienced and what we have ahead of us.
And some steps are uncertain,
Let's break new ground:
Are there holes or cracks?
And can we dare?
What is outside the bubble,
Nobody can tell us this.
But only those who are new to the world
Enters, extends its boundaries.
And the horizon continues to grow
Out, show us also good things.
And so we build the foundation,
Flexible, solid walls.
We feel our way around them,
They serve us as a support.
And if you are weak, lean on them,
They will protect you too.
Because you are their builder,
Far and near will merge.
The walls are thick, you feel safe.
Behind them - dark - one rests ... But, oh no!
How do you wall yourself in,
Don't you build windows into it?
On the outside they give you a view,
But more light also penetrates to the inside.
This is how you learn to diffuse.
We have, even if we doubt it,
Power and potential.
Only when we have recognized and grasped this
We hit with hoe, hammer, chisel
Finally a portal.
This not only gives us strength to know
Fractal world formulas,
To name the world, the life,
After us'rem luck to shape the house.
A sunroof and a few clouds,
Thoughts that nourish the ground.
As one learns, so shall one teach.
