Archive for the ‘Renata’ Category

Happy New Year!

The alarm sounded.

I got up, went to the bathroom,


rinsed my mouth out,

and drank two glasses of water.


I switched the TV on.

BR, naturally.


Nina Winkler.


I did my thing.

Panoramabilder would be next.

Comforting, somehow.

Like Alpine mountains.


reliability, of sorts.

We seek stasis

and maintenance,

of youth and sanity,

in this temporal realm

of the transient,

of transience.

We try.

We don’t want to die.

We don’t anything we care about to die.

We try.

We do what we can.

We eschew publicly-stated plans,

like resolutions and manifestos,

knowing “the other” will use it as ammunition,

cause for demolition.

No fireworks, please,

use the expense more wisely!





Happy New Year.


A minute of silence,

maybe more is required,

to reflect upon



(Lost love).

What was and may have been,


as grudges long simmer,

scores to settle…

The complexities of people and history,

outside influences and pressures,


in a place,

like space,

never empty,

but nonetheless void.

Where do you go when home no longer exists?


I struggle through the days,

to get to the nights,

so that I can drink beer,

get naked,

get… well, I’m always introspective,

and justifiably sleep.

Desperate attempt to find


numb bliss.

Such is life these days,

for as long as I remember,

I need to escape the bondage of society.


It is time, as they say in the classics,

to let my girls go free.


I imagine myself completely naked,

walking along a pristine beach.

I’m holding the hand of a man,

he too is naked.

We aren’t talking,

we have no need to speak out loud,

we are communing silently,

it is a deep and pure connection,

as we walk along the beach.

I feel safe and secure.

I feel enlightened.

I no longer feel afraid.

The scene is beautiful.

We are beautiful.

We are made in the image of God.


I do as I feel the Spirit leads,


I will be lost to the human system,

for an indefinite while,

I believe.



It’s true,

I’ve lost my hope and faith in this world,

in people and society,

in my own ability,

to “get on”,

to progress, as one feels one should.

(“Screw up!

Dead wood…”)

Too many disappointments,

too many reasons for disenchantment,


too much betrayal and pain,

experienced, learned and witnessed.

What’s left?

A dry husk.

A parched field.

I have no human hope,

just despair.


(the rationalists would declare),

I have a belief in miracles.

And it seems altogether more likely

to me

that my advancement will come


I therefore have hope

(I hope)

and a reason to keep living.

The Grace of God,

Holy Trinity,

Is with me.





We mangle words,

we mangle people,

concepts explored,

money made

at great human expense.

The market is happy

but it makes no sense.

Like meat left to rot,

we spoil

for Dollars and cents.

Humanity debased.

Lives destroyed

wills crushed,

possibilities gone,

beautiful things desecrated.


the world is a poorer place.


Yes, I know it could be said that I’m “spinning my wheels”, so as to say. I feel it too, and it is most frustrating. Confusing fragments, life, death, memories, and strands of in/sanity. Soon though, I’ve got to believe, something will click, in a good way, and things will come together. Yes, believe.

People say a lot of things about Europe, without knowing.

People imply a lot of things about Europe, without going.

There I was in the heart of the modern city,

Rainbow flags on the trams,

Pride weekend,

Cathedral empty but for tourists who felt obliged

to go inside,

take photos and talk banalities,

just one of those things you’re meant to do, right?

And I went to the majestic museum,

full of historic treasures

and somehow managed to overlook the undoubted centerpiece,

the display wasn’t as grandiose as expected, perhaps, hidden amongst so many other gems in plain sight.

So I asked an attendant where it was, the Holy Relic, the piece of Jesus’ Cross.

Without smirking or flinching, seriously and respectfully she directed me to the exhibit case. She *got it*, she understood, that I believed.

I thanked her, kindred spirit, and knew I had at least one friend in the desert.

Experts and scholars may debate its authenticity, everyday Joes may scoff at its reality, but I felt reverence and power and I stood for many minutes staring at the wood, while Mediterranean tourists walked past to other more “interesting” exhibits, I silently worshipped.

Pause and breathe.

Beauty and peace go together.

It looked like a miracle and it sounded like a miracle. We were impressed – that someone (an American!) would care enough to come to our distant region and heal this woman in front of us all.

Others followed. Indeed, we all wanted to follow. In one way or another, we all wanted to follow and probably did so, in our minds, if nothing else. A few of us nervously laughed, noticing the cameras, commenting that at the end they’d want to baptize us and it’d be like the Russian church where you had to be baptized naked as a sign of your pure acceptance of, and openness to, Christ Jesus.

Okay, maybe not tonight, I found myself thinking and that, perhaps, miracles in my life are more likely to occur in private.

Private, that is the way of Faith.

Private and still.

Still, I believe.

Still, steadfast.


Still, if I am to be an example in this world, as the Holy Word says, then why not be radiant? Miraculously obvious? … Okay, I am open!