Writer Between Worlds

Soulful writing about humans and places

Category: Natur

  • And the green will be silent

    thick burdock by the river and the musical trance of water flowing – a brook with its bubbling eddies and thirsty loud birds – and our years quietly passing, quietly leaking into the humid ground like fat dark nourishment and all this while, the working bee will be gathering nectar unknowingly and the green will…

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  • The One

    everything feeds on everything else, we all dissolve into the bodies of others – a joyous play of alterity/sameness, we are all milk, bread, honey, meat, wine for this cosmic feast, this orgy of the gods. all of us just a fleeting, elusive, embodied drop of pureness.

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  • Spätsommer

    leicht, leicht und sachte ist der Wind der uns grenzenlos macht als er durch diese blaue Seele bläst und die lila Blüten wie lockere Saiten zum Klingen bringt – leise, leise, und süß-duftend und grenzenlos ist das Schweben, sein Strom nun gemäßigt und angenehm, angenehm warm.

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  • The apple (haikus)

    I found an apple on the ground today and I ate it with blameless desire. it was green and sweet-sour, and tasted like crisp juicy joy.

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  • Sommernacht

    șed goală la fereastră; cerul nopții e palid, plouă încet pe frunze, în pântece mi se împlântă un întuneric negru ca sămânța. crești, noapte de vară, am să-ți împrumut trupul meu. naște-te, am să-ți susur numele cu tandrețe. îmbată-mă cu mireasmă de tei și caută-mi lacomă sânul, am să te hrănesc cu lapte, dulceață fierbinte.…

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  • Heat

    this smothering. this incandescence. this slowing down of industry. this blistering disintegration into idle particles – placid, primordial, like the silence, pierced only by the terrified barking of the lone dog desperate to sound brave. this viscous, heavy blinding doubling down on your shoulders. this begging for a breeze, the impossibility of shade and the…

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  • Membrane

    today I’d like to be a poet – nothing more. slow, silent, wistful – pure organic membrane wrapped around this cosmos built from rock and cold. lonely pulsating membrane through which the unseen ripples.

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  • Night sky (haiku)

    nothing means anything but the night sky, all those dead stars still glinting.

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  • Why?

    why am I woman and not apple blossom bee grass blue heron seabed? the same cosmic black tongue coiling around them all and licking the plate clean.

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  • Corsica 2026

    I returned to Corsica after 21 years, the same way a grown woman revisits her first love trying to understand what might have been and what she missed back then.Corsica outside the tourist season is the kind of rough gem you explore at the pace of your own breath. It is a proud mare no…

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  • Toamna (haiku)

    Toamna (haiku)

    Înflăcărarea se stinge în râuri moi de pace mută.

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  • No photos

    Crows on a dying treetop, scattered on its bare branches before taking flight. Crickets in grass, loud, and reeds slowly slanting below blue mountains, crimson suns and clouds like cotton of the purest white. I take no photos and no hostages from this: I simply watch how the marvels explode on an organic retina that…

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