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Poems from the heart
by John Veldhuizen
John Veldhuizen
Short biography
John Veldhuizen was born in Amsterdam in 1933. In 1956 he migrated to Australia with his wife, where he had a multitude of jobs as a driver, cleaner, barman, real estate salesman and gardener. After 38 years he returned to the Netherlands where he now lives. In the poems the author has tried to paint a portrait of his experiences in life: nature, love, spirituality and the struggle to understand oneself and the world at large.
John died on July 18, 2024.
Content
Sunrise - I wake up at the crack of dawn
Oceans - Their mighty waves pound our shores
Autumn - Autumn leaves and autumn wind
Winter - I gaze across a snow-clad land
Spring - When naked trees give birth to green
The parting - As my spirit leaves the mortal shroud
A journey back - As life unfolds its truth to me
Shadows - I've lived with death since I was born
Farewell to a child - Farewell the child we never knew
The immigrants - They sailed away in innocence
The migrant son - Born without kinfolk, born without ties
The cleansing - Oh healing wind, come onto me
In memoriam - The wind comes whispering through the trees
Life - A child is born in innocence
The addict - It started off in innocence
Ego - It’s present when we see first light
Love - Love dominates our daily life
Hate - Hate dominates the earth
Memory lane - I'm wandering down memory-lane
Memory - When twilight creeps into our lives
Death - He comes to us in different guise
The prostitude - Behind her lit-up window
The farewell - Farewell the one that is no more
Talking to the boss - I was talking to the Lord one day
The battler - His wrinkled face and calloused hands
The search - We leave the womb, we see first light
The affliction - Imagine life without a sound
Dreams - That magic word from yonder spheres
Freedom - Sometimes at night and all alone
Endless - I came without and leave the same
At last - I walked the earth for many years
Happiness - I like the way you sip your wine
You - Restless like the driven wind
Why? - Why is it that man roams the earth
You - Life is such a precious gift
Loneliness - My heart is full of loneliness
For whom the bells toll - The bells they toll for everyone
Looking back - When the end of the road comes into view
The lesson - When born we are unaware
Love - We use this word a hundred times
Tears - There are tears when we laugh
Memories - When the end of life comes into view
What? - What if this and what if that
Christmas - It's Christmas once again
Journey’s end - At seventy years and ten
Sunrise
I wake up at the crack of dawn
to watch an awesome sight,
I'm waiting for the sun to rise,
I want to see the light.
At first there's just a shimmer,
a tiny golden speck,
but then as if on God’s command
the clouds are rolling back.
And then she bursts upon the earth
in one gigantic spawn,
she bans the night to yonder spheres
and heralds in the dawn.
This giant play upon God’s stage
is free for all to see,
I wonder though how many do,
perhaps it's only me.
And when her rays caress my soul
in early morning light,
I meditate in solitude
and follow spirit’s flight.
I watch her soar above the earth
embracing God’s creation,
I cry and let my tears run free
in silent jubilation.
Golden Beach Victoria, November 1990
Oceans
Their mighty waves pound our shores,
they never seem to tire,
we hear their song along the coast
like some gigantic choir.
I love the songs that oceans sing,
they tell me of God’s word,
the laws of nature are explained
to man, to beast and bird.
When morning breaks with golden sun
and warms our heart and soul,
we slowly wake and start our day
and labour towards our goal.
The never ending "school of life",
of love and understanding,
the time will come when we will know
why our task was so demanding.
And then we journey home again
to the master of creation
and let Him guide us once again
towards another incarnation.
When oceans sing their wondrous song
I bow my head in prayer
and feel surrounded by God’s love
for He is everywhere.
Golden beach Victoria, 1990
Autumn
Autumn leaves and autumn wind,
each year they pass us by,
they herald in the snow and rain,
gone is the clear blue sky.
When laughter rang throughout the land
we swam and played all day,
we danced all night and fell in love
and nature had its way.
But autumn has a certain charm
with colours rich and bold,
to me it is a wondrous time
despite the wind and cold.
The wind that brushes past my ear
and tells me fairy-tales,
then turns around, erupts with force
in storm and howling gales.
I'll miss the autumn when it's gone
and winter takes its place,
I hope I'll be around next year
to once more feel its grace.
October 1993
Winter
I gaze across a snow-clad land,
a fairy-tale in white,
crystals like diamonds in the sun
and not a soul in sight.
I marvel at this wondrous scene,
it’s like a dream come true,
this spotless winter wonderland
beneath a sky so blue.
The naked trees stretch out their limbs
in heavy winter sleep,
a bird flies past in search of food,
gnarled willows softly weep.
The smell of ozone mixed with frost
spawns from the cobalt sky,
I feel emotion deep inside
and know the reason why.
To be a witness to all this
in silent meditation,
I bow my head in humble prayer
to the master of creation.
March 1992
Spring
When naked trees give birth to green
and buds start to appear,
when winter storms sing their last song
I know that Spring is here.
No other season has such grace,
such exquisite perfume,
the beauty of a spring-bouquet
and colours of its bloom.
The bees prepare to pollinate,
birds orchestrate in song.
insects are spawned from mother Earth
to join in nature's throng.
I smell the pungent odours
where farmers work their land,
Spring's like a giant painting
created by God’s hand.
For me Spring is a medicine
that softly heals my soul
and gently pushes me along
towards my spiritual goal.
May 1992
The parting
As my spirit leaves the mortal shroud
to travel yonder sphere,
I leave my love and gratitude
to you who was so near.
Although my eyes and mouth are still
and the flesh is growing cold,
our feelings are united,
embraced in spirit's hold.
Your love, your care and tenderness
relieved my heavy task.
You understood it was my choice,
there was no need to ask.
Life's school is out, at least for now,
one day I must return,
my parting is but for a while,
there is much more to learn.
I'll guide your spirit towards the light
while you're still on the earth,
so take my hand and come with me,
and meet your spiritual worth.
In memory of Gerda
August 1992
A journey back
As life unfolds its truth to me
in the autumn of my years,
I look upon a chequered past,
my heart is filled with tears.
Dear God, why is it that we never learn
when we are young and strong?
Our egos swell, our lusts prevail,
we never think we're wrong.
But now that life presents the bill
of what we have consumed,
what of the souls that have not learned,
please tell me, are they doomed?
I'm not afraid to pay my dues,
but can you help me please?
And do not think I sing the blues,
I search for inner peace.
My restless soul that walks this plain
has taken on this task,
please help me with this heavy load,
dear God, that's all I ask.
When all is done and I rise up
to kneel before your throne,
I hope you bless me with your love,
from now I will atone.
August 1992
Shadows
I've lived with death since I was born,
he's always at my side,
is he the devil’s advocate,
does he know wrong from right?
When sickness dwells within my breast
I hear his tempting song,
come onto me, you lonely soul,
you cannot do no wrong.
Come, grab my hand, it’s time to go,
we'll journey through the sky,
open your eyes and move your lips
and whisper your goodbye.
But then a golden cloud appears
and bathed in golden light,
a spirit dressed in flowing robe
stands smiling at my side.
Wake up, I'm here on God’s command,
there's still too much to learn,
your earthly task not yet fulfilled,
too early to return.
Physicians and my friends alike
are startled at my health,
they do not know that faith in God
is my spiritual wealth.
September 1992
Farewell to a child
Farewell the child we never knew,
the pain too much to bear,
you taught us love and happiness
although you were not there.
For nine long months we dreamt of you,
the emptiness was gone,
it did not matter what you were,
a daughter or a son.
It was not to be, oh broken heart,
is there a God above?
The one that always heals all wounds,
where's his almighty love?
Retreat you poor and lonely soul
and listen to His voice,
the lesson learned is yours alone,
it's you that made the choice.
Forget all selfishness and pride,
look with spiritual eyes,
the spirit who would have been your child,
it knows of no good-byes.
Once you rise up, when life is done
you'll meet and will rejoice,
together you will understand
the wisdom of God's voice.
September 1992
The immigrants
They sailed away in innocence
with only one ambition,
a future in that far-off land,
so they parted with tradition.
They severed ties with family
and fare welled friend and foe,
good luck and all the best to you,
be careful how you go.
A mother sheds a lonely tear
and whispers her goodbye,
why does she loose her child today,
is there a reason why?
But they were young and full of life,
there was no time for tears,
their future was the promised land,
no worries and no fears.
But years rolled by and took their toll,
life's lesson at an end,
of broken hearts and shattered dreams,
one prays they'll understand.
I shed a tear, once more I see
two children hand in hand,
who thought that life was oh so sweet
in that far-off promised land.
September 1992
The migrant son
Born without kinfolk, born without ties,
lost to the roots where his ancestry lies.
He'll grow up a stranger with some foreign name,
the name of his father, from wherever he came.
He'll grow up and wonder how life could have been
surrounded by family that he's never seen.
So when he grows older he will feel forlorn
and visit the country where his father was born.
The language is foreign, but he will feel at ease,
his mixed up emotions can find some release.
Is there anger or sadness, a feeling of hate,
because of a decision his parents once made?
To leave all they had for streets paved with gold,
where dreams would come true, or so they were told.
He remembers his parents who worked day and night,
who struggled and saved, so he would be right.
Their youth then cut short on those streets paved with gold,
by the time they reached forty they were haggard and old.
They had swallowed their pride and buried their tears,
a migrant grows tough after a number of years.
Their hearts cry in silence as they constantly yearn
for the land of their fathers, but cannot return.
Their children then migrants, their story the same,
they'd be homesick and dream of the land they once came.
November 1995
The cleansing
Oh healing wind, come onto me
and clean my troubled soul,
come liberate me from my past,
I feel I’ve paid the toll.
Come cleanse my being with your breath,
try make me understand
the wisdom of the universe,
the blessing of God’s hand.
You’ve come to me so many times
and whispered in my ear,
but I was deaf and also blind,
my being soaked in fear.
But now my spirit’s wide awake
and ready to begin,
so come to me, oh healing wind,
and blow away my sin.
September 1992
In memoriam
The wind comes whispering through the trees,
it softly calls your name,
I lift my head, but you are gone
and life is not the same.
Your body is not far away,
your name engraved in gold,
your lips are frozen in a smile,
your hands are deadly cold.
I want to claw the earth away
and bring you back to life,
please God, perform this miracle,
I beg, return my wife.
Our happiness was so sublime,
no-one could understand,
like walking through a fairy-tale,
two lovers hand in hand.
We lived in perfect harmony,
no tears, no pain, no sorrow,
each day for us a feast of life,
who cared about tomorrow?
Death came for you when it was dark
and we were both asleep,
there was no time to say goodbye,
but time to grieve and weep.
The flowers that adorn your grave
have also but one life,
they die with you, it is God’s will.
Farewell my dearest wife.
October 1992
Life
A child is born in innocence,
a product of creation,
it learns to walk, it learns to talk,
a feeling of sensation.
The eyes drink in the scenery
they've never seen before,
of trees and meadows, rolling hills,
waves pounding on the shore.
Beware, oh child of paradise,
for when the years roll by,
and then life's lesson takes its toll,
look upward towards the sky.
Gaze up and smile and understand,
no matter what the price,
there's God’s reward for all the pain,
the tears and sacrifice.
Forgive all those that done you wrong,
for theirs is a heavy load,
they did not learn the lesson yet
on life's rocky road.
We try and earn "eternal love"
while living on this plain,
there comes a time we cease to learn
and not come back again.
February 1993
The addict
It started off in innocence,
to do it was quite "hip",
a puff or two of Mary-Jane
that sent you on a trip.
But pretty soon 't was not enough,
you needed something stronger,
so LSD was your next choice,
it lasted so much longer.
Most friends dropped off and they went straight,
to them it was just a trend,
but you increased your daily dose,
forever you were bent.
Then came the day that you shot up,
by God that was a blast,
you travelled through the universe,
no future and no past.
But when you landed back on earth
you craved for more again,
there was no money to be found,
we know what happened then.
A life of crime and violence
to get your daily dose,
some went directly in the vein
and some straight up your nose.
You tried to kick the habit once,
but did not have the guts,
confronted with the real world,
it nearly drove you nuts.
You're nothing now but flesh and bones
and people pass you by,
another overdose, who cares,
you're just a faceless guy.
Adieu you poor and lonely soul,
the journey at an end,
I pray you find some peace up there,
God bless and keep you friend.
September 1993
Ego
It’s present when we see first light
and with us when we die,
it is the teller of the truth,
inventor of the lie.
Cannot be seen, cannot be heard,
most people do not know
that it exists within us all,
it is both friend and foe.
It manipulates our daily lives
from morning until night
and when you think you’re doing wrong
it says: you’re doing right.
It is that part of us that we create
to ward off doubt and fright,
it is the one that halts our march
towards our spiritual light.
When life is done and we depart
to see how we evolved,
we see in shock that once again
our problems were not solved.
Awaken you the spirit,
ban the ego from your soul,
delivered from its presence
rise towards a spiritual goal.
November 1993
Love
Love dominates our daily life,
it is both slave and master,
sometimes it fills our hearts with tears
or makes it run much faster.
Love is like our daily bread,
without it we are lost,
one gets too much, the other none,
sometimes at heavy cost.
Love can be likened to a snake
with venom and much hate,
destroys relations in a flash
when wisdom comes too late.
Love is like the king of beasts,
impossible to tame,
we've tried to conquer love and lost
but let there be no shame.
For he who is devoid of love
is like a hollow tree,
a shadow on a naked wall,
that's plain for all to see.
Man's search for real love
will triumph in the end
when ego and aggression
forever will be banned.
He'll find God’s love within his heart
and spread it all around,
mankind will roam in ignorance
until that love is found.
November 1993
Hate
Hate dominates the earth,
it can destroy mankind,
and like a cancerous disease
it slowly rots our mind.
Hate's been around as long as man
has walked upon the earth
and all that time he's been asleep,
blind to spiritual birth.
When Jesus came and gave his life
so we might understand,
we wrote his love with bloody swords,
spread fear across the land.
Man murdered millions in God’s name
and turned his love to hate,
religion became corruption,
but still it's not too late.
Together we can turn the tide
against the hate and fear,
destroy the devil in ourselves
and know that God is here.
The earth will be a paradise,
no fear for man or beast,
we'll understand the universe,
a true spiritual feast.
January 1993
Memory lane
I'm wandering down memory-lane,
my mind a question mark,
a stranger in a spiritual maze,
still groping in the dark.
I have no knowledge of the past
and yet it's like my breath,
forever it is deep within
from birth until my death.
I'm looking for an answer,
can someone lend a hand,
release me from this stifling maze
and make me understand?
Abandon all your hope and fear,
let go of greed and hate,
unload all negativity,
hang on and don't abate.
There's light at the horizon
of your spiritual dawn,
as slowly you awaken
a child of Godly spawn.
December 1993
Memory
When twilight creeps into our lives
and reminiscence born,
we look behind, gaze in the past,
feel happy, feel forlorn.
'Cause memories can make us laugh
but also bring a tear,
cheery hello's and sad farewells
of those that were so near.
Life's just like a giant stage
where people play their part,
and when the curtain slowly falls
they go back to the start.
To view the part that we did play
with scrutinizing eye,
we hold our breath, anticipate,
and suddenly know why.
Our memories are like a guide
who take us for a stroll,
to forgive our wrongs and bless our rights
and realise our goal.
When twilight creeps into our lives
and heralds earth goodbye,
be sure you've learned your lesson well
and know the reason why.
September 1994
Death
He comes to us in different guise,
one never can be sure,
his entrance often suddenly,
impossible to cure.
It can be morning, noon or night,
in summer, spring or fall,
there is no way he will pass you by
for Death comes to us all.
Most see him as an enemy,
some as a healing friend,
relieving pain and suffering
he comes with soothing hand.
It is the only moment in your life
of which you can be certain,
but never know what way and when
he comes to drop the curtain.
The few that realise his worth
wait eager for his call,
they know that life is but a school,
a lesson to us all.
So when you hear his gentle knock
while he softly calls your name,
open up your heart, invite him in,
return from whence you came.
He is the oldest friend you've got
at the end of every life,
his coming means deliverance
so make the sacrifice.
Then rise with him up to "your" God
whoever He may be,
so when he's standing at your side
let go of life, be free.
March 1995
The prostitute
Behind her lit-up window
she sits and plies her trade,
it is the oldest in the world,
her clients on parade.
She prostitutes her body
for sale to you and me,
men ogle her in silence,
her flesh for all to see.
They come from every walk of life,
the famous, rich and poor,
frustrated by their passion,
she makes a welcome cure.
And after payment of a fee
her clothes drop to the ground,
where upon the client mounts her,
almost without a sound.
He goes through all the motions,
sometimes he'll give a snort
and then like "rigor mortis"
all movement will abort.
There is no love, no feeling,
he does not know her name,
just like two dogs out in the street
performing without shame.
He leaves the room, there's no farewell,
to him she's just a whore,
he's paid for what he wanted
like a purchase in a store.
She adjusts her scanty clothing,
repairs her wrinkled face,
slaps on some rouge and lipstick
and resumes her window-place.
May 1995
The farewell
Farewell the one that is no more,
we're gathered here today
to speak some words, to shed some tears
and help him on his way.
Our eyes stare vacant into space
awaiting your descent,
a clod of earth, a mumbled prayer,
farewell, we loved you friend.
The sound and laughter of your voice
still echoes in our soul,
what cruel fate those left behind,
how heavy is their toll.
But you are gone, the spirit free
in heavenly ascend,
the earthy shackles are no more,
you've left both foe and friend.
When do we learn we never die,
the body just a shell,
a spirit's temporary home
while drinking from life's well.
And then one day the well runs dry,
you know your time is up,
farewell the loved ones left behind,
you throw away your cup.
Rise up and see how you have fared
in but another life,
look at the score when you add up
the good times and the strife.
Then be prepared, descend again,
a child upon the earth,
another life, another task
towards your spiritual worth.
Let's help this spirit on its way,
abandon our grief,
let's send him all our love and joy
so that his tears are brief.
His body will return to dust,
it's just an empty shell,
the spirit will return one day
to gather round the well.
Adieu my friend and au revoir,
one day we'll meet again,
until that day we'll wait for you,
until that day "Amen."
In memory of Herke
May 1995
Talking to the boss
I was talking to the Lord one day
while going for a stroll,
I asked Him: was I doing right?
He thought that was quite droll.
My son, he said, I tell you what,
you've got a lot to learn,
don't waste your time, get on with it,
'cause otherwise you'll burn.
To earn your "spurs" in yonder world
you'll have to alter course,
do change your life, repent, lament,
and show me some remorse.
I stared at Him in disbelief:
good Lord, what can I say,
but I'll take you up on your advice
and make a start today.
Well there you go, I've made the change
and feel a better man,
why don't you change, it feels so good,
I'm sure you know you can.
So if I meet the Lord again
I'll tell him: no more fool,
I'm sure He'll smile at me and say:
good on you John, that's cool.
October 1995
The battler
His wrinkled face and calloused hands,
a remnant of the past,
remind him of a life gone by,
but now he's free at last.
He's pensioned-off, the work is done,
there’s no more clock to punch,
gone is the chatter with his mates
at smoko and at lunch.
He spent most of his natural life
a slave of industry,
he knew no different and now he's lost,
now that he's finally free.
His meagre pension won't go far
towards all those life-long dreams,
they kept him going all those years,
to no avail it seems.
His kids grew up and moved away,
a family of their own,
the only time they come around
when asking for a loan.
The worker longs for days gone-by
of hardship and of sweat,
when a man was a man who fought for his rights
as he slaved for his daily bread.
There was Taffy and Jock and Bluey and Bill
and Saturday night at the pub
where they did drink their fill until "Gentlemen please"
and then they went off to the club.
The loneliness hangs like a noose round his neck,
unable to cope with the time,
surviving on memories and tales of the past
when the price of a beer was a dime.
And so life goes on, till death beckons him,
the loneliness finished at last,
his weary eyes close, but there's a smile on his face
as he is saying farewell to the past.
November 1995
The search
We leave the womb, we see first light,
give birth to our breath,
and once again the search is on
until embraced by death.
The search for good, the search for bad,
for love and for compassion,
the search for man, of how to deal
with hate and with aggression.
And then we see the spirit’s task
like some gigantic mountain,
it has to climb with shackled feet
while drinking from life's fountain.
To overcome the obstacles
presented every day,
to try avoid their tentacles
that are coming our way.
The positive, the negative,
what will be our choice?
Temptation is persuasive
with its suggestive voice.
And so the search goes on and on,
a never ending challenge
to try and reach the ultimate,
to find a perfect balance.
To understand the lesson
created by our birth,
a link in the eternal chain
towards our spiritual worth.
February 1996
The affliction
Imagine life without a sound,
devoid of conversation,
the thought of being deaf and dumb
is filled with trepidation.
Did we invite the devil's wrath
when born with this curse,
or could it be a Godly task
to realise our worth?
There is an answer to all this
of quite a different kind,
the curse could be a blessing
observed through spirit’s mind
To abstain of human qualities,
no lies, no hate, no greed,
no one to whisper in your ear
to sow their evil seed.
Imagine life without a sound,
devoid of conversation,
indeed a blessing in disguise
towards spiritual jubilation.
October 1996
Dreams
That magic word from yonder spheres,
their whereabouts unknown,
where good and evil take their turn
in a timeless wonder-zone.
We pass them off as fantasies,
a figment of the mind,
but could it be when studied close
they’re of a different kind?
That when we dream we do depart
from that what we call life,
to take a look in yonder spheres
with their beauty and their strife.
Perhaps each night we journey-on
into a new dimension,
an out of body workshop,
the after-life extension.
It would be wise to look at dreams
as a spiritual guide,
a universal library,
a beacon in the night.
So consciously prepare yourself
each night when you ascend
and try to bring the knowledge back
from this far-off spirit-land.
And comes the day you bid farewell
to life upon the earth
the knowledge gathered in your dreams
will stand you in its worth.
October 1996
Freedom
Sometimes at night and all alone
I travel to the twilight-zone,
a journey into empty space,
devoid of time or human race.
A feeling I have more or less
dissolved in spacial nothingness,
the spirit free and unimpeded,
the body has been superseded.
A state of total exultation,
and never-ending jubilation.
Oh, how I'd like to shed my garb,
the body being just a barb
that caught the spirit by surprise
until released by its demise.
When morning comes with early dawn
my journey ends, I feel forlorn,
there is a taste that's bitter sweet
when body and the spirit meet.
My life goes on, there's no lament,
the school of life until the end,
that final day, when all alone
I travel to the twilight-zone.
December 1996
Endless
I came without and leave the same,
discard my wealth, discard my name,
the spirit pure in upward thrust,
the body shall return to dust.
Another lesson has been learned
and all the bridges have been burned,
there is no going back no more,
another life has closed its door.
Once more the school of life has ceased,
sometimes we're sad, sometimes we're pleased,
when looking at the final score
our task is done, there is no more.
The circle it goes round and round,
another life is to be found,
in the endless chain of evolution
the spirit must make restitution.
So once again another birth,
we hope this time it will be worth,
so when the spirit does ascend
its evolution at an end.
April 1997
At last
I walked the earth for many years
in search of self-esteem,
at last there is a ray of hope
or maybe just a gleam.
I cannot fool myself no more,
gone are the countless lies,
another image has appeared,
I'm severing all ties.
Your love performed this miracle,
you understood my plight,
removing every obstacle,
you are my guiding light.
Your love for me has cleansed my soul,
it opened up my heart,
a new day dawns, there's happiness,
I know we'll never part.
December 1997
Happiness
I like the way you sip your wine,
the way you talk, your smile,
the special way you say my name,
the way you run a mile.
I love the way you look at me
at night when we entwine,
my heart runs faster knowing that
for ever you’ll be mine.
I love the way you come to me
with worries and with fears,
I’m always there to comfort you
and kiss away your tears.
At last I found the rest and peace
I’ve searched for from the start,
you’ve done what no-one else could do,
you opened up my heart.
January 1998
You
Restless like the driven wind
the past now comes to rest,
discarded are the countless fears,
you’ve understood the test.
The spirit’s lesson now begins,
your future is secure,
you’ve banished negativity
and fled the devils lure.
The spirit now is in command,
invite its loving grace,
accept in humble gratitude
spiritual embrace.
The balance twixt yourself and it
will slowly reach its peak,
while others dwell in ignorance
not knowing what they seek.
January 1998
Why?
Why is it that man roams the earth
in ignorance and fear?
Why is he blind, can not perceive
salvation always near?
His lesson comes in endless lives,
a constant repetition,
each life the same, no end in sight,
a victim of attrition.
Aggression, hate and fear remain,
they've conquered man in time,
it seems forever he is lost,
each life a constant mime.
If he could turn the coin around
and view the other side,
accept the lesson in each life,
be conscious of his plight.
Lay down the sword and tend the plough,
strive to allay his fear,
to foster love within his heart,
thus let his mind grow clear.
And welcome God into his soul,
surrender to his grace,
this is the lesson he must learn
to save the human race.
January 1998
You
Life is such a precious gift
but mankind does not know,
does not perceive the meaning
of spirit’s way to grow.
My lesson in this life was clear,
until now I passed it by,
though conscious of its contents
I laughed and did not try.
A life of emptiness and bluff,
deaf to the world around,
convinced that I was always right
and others did not count.
And then you came into my life
to show me right from wrong,
and gave up your aggression,
so together we grew strong.
Through you I found this precious gift
although the road was long,
without you I surely would have failed
and again have done it wrong.
To come back in the human form
and repeat my every day,
to duplicate the misery
for there is no other way.
I thank you for your love and care
which made a blind man see,
you reached deep down my inner self
and set the spirit free.
May 1999
Loneliness
My heart is full of loneliness
but the world does not know,
I always wear a happy smile,
I'm always on the go.
But when I wake up in the night
my soul cries out for peace,
it is a never ending fight,
can someone help me please?
This cancerous beast devours me,
it dominates my life,
how can I put an end to this,
the sorrow and the strife?
I pray that when the sun breaks through
and heralds a new day,
that Jesus comes and heals my soul
and takes the pain away.
October 1999
For whom the bells toll
The bells they toll for everyone
when time has come to pass,
they tell us that we close the books
and end our earthly class.
To see and ponder without fear
upon our path on earth,
what was our task, how did we fare
from the moment of our birth.
Have no regret that things went wrong
while at the school of life,
the lesson is a gathering
of laughter, tears and strife.
So when the Bell is tolling
and calling you by name,
abandon fear and rise up in peace
to the spheres from whence you came.
January 2003
Looking back
When the end of the road comes into view
we pause and turn around,
the mind goes back to years ago
to see what can be found.
The tears and laughter we went through,
our mind a question mark,
not knowing what the lesson is
we are groping in the dark.
I hear you say, what is it all about?
You are born and then you die,
leave all and everything behind,
don’t know the reason why.
Your life is but one page, my friend,
in the book of incarnation,
you leave and then return again
to start a new creation.
July 2011
The lesson
When born we are unaware
of future or the past,
we don’t know what our lesson is,
don’t know the die is cast.
The spirit in its earthly garb
returns to try again,
aware of all the obstacles
it encounters there and then.
It is like a ship in heavy seas
that is difficult to steer,
but when the clouds do vanish
the sky is bright and clear.
The spirit is like a yo-yo,
going up and going down,
sometimes extremely negative,
sometimes it’s like a clown.
Such is the lesson it must learn
every time when it descends,
to find a perfect balance,
that’s when the lesson ends.
August 2011
Love
We use this word a hundred times,
love this, love that, love you,
forever we discard a love
to find a love that’s new.
I’ve done the same for many years
convinced that this was it!!
But it was again the same charade
and the love died bit by bit.
But in the twilight of my years
a miracle occurred,
I did meet you and instantly
something inside me stirred.
Ours has been a long and winding road
with trial and tribulation,
but it taught us true love in the end,
now we join in celebration.
August 2011
Tears
There are tears when we laugh
and tears when we cry,
tears when there’s pain
and tears when we die.
But the tears that we hide
in ourselves deep inside
are the tears from the past,
forever they last.
For the things we’ve done wrong
to loved ones and others,
lack of concern
being fathers and mothers.
When life catches up
and the years have flown by
we sit down and weep
because then we know why.
Weep not my friend
because such is our life,
a mixture of laughter
of tears and of strife.
The one that you cry for
will also grow old
and becomes part of the story
that just has been told.
August 2011
Memories
When the end of life comes into view
and interests lose their grip,
our minds go back to when we were young,
when life was gay and hip.
We lived and loved and had high hopes
of a future of blessed with health,
a marriage made in heaven
and of prosperity and wealth.
We rushed through life at breakneck speed
and never did we worry,
when things went wrong, we carried on
and never said we’re sorry.
Now that I am old and grey,
my bones worn out and brittle,
I sit down and go back in time
when I was only little.
And review the lengthy lesson
that has been my life,
a mixture of emotions,
of good times and of strife.
But I have someone special now
who loves me just for me,
she opened up my eyes to love
and set suspicions free.
When time has come for me to go
and leave for yonder sphere,
I hope that I can truey say:
I learned my lesson here.
2011
What?
What if this and what if that,
it dominates our life,
we honestly believe that we’re in charge
of the good things and the strife.
The lesson to be learned down here
comes with your birth, that’s true,
but your life is the spirit’s school,
no matter what you do!
The spirit comes with list in hand
and takes it from the top,
it ticks the final item
when our lives come to a stop.
It looks at the lesson that’s been learned
with scrutinizing eye,
there is no time for cheating,
there is no time to lie.
And again it takes another task
that we know as our life,
the spirit’s award to eternity
through good luck and through strife.
October 2011
Christmas
It's Christmas once again
but there's no peace on earth,
man lives in total ignorance,
still does not know his worth.
He kills and maims and plunders on
to satisfy his greed,
he does not care who dies or starves,
oblivious to their need.
But once a year he turns around
and puts on a festive face,
adorns his house with ornaments
and gathers in God’s place.
He sings and prays and worships "Him",
creator of all men,
and when the holy days are done
the killing starts again.
When does man learn some tolerance?
Observe the fruit it yields,
lay down the sword, bring out the plough
to work the "killing fields".
A simple way to end all wars,
it brings peace to every man,
let's pray he learns some sanity
and never fights again.
December 2012
Journey's end
At seventy years and ten
the road comes to an end,
I bid farewell to one and all,
to family and friend.
My journey was a tainted one,
I was deaf to friend and foe,
to listen was a waste of time,
I was always on the go.
Now that I look back on the past
I see the error of my ways
and hope to change my attitude
in the remaining days.
But addicted to a way of life
where fear was the hidden foe,
each day an emotional question mark
what to do and where to go.
But now I feel a sudden change inside,
a kind of different feeling,
as if a brand new energy
gives me spiritual healing.
I hope that on that final day
when they come and drop the curtain,
I learned the lesson or at least a part,
but you never can be certain.
January 2013