Ode To Autumn

Now, is my favourite time of the year
as in now now, this precise moment
while now is all there is  the world is at my feet
a colourful patchwork-blanket
and my walk  a vivid dream

Autumn, my first whole month September
to notice a golden leaf, surrounded by green
to hear the fruits fall from their trees
and the crows crow over the harvest

So many gongs
to melt me into
presence

Before I write my life
I walk until I fly

I can't say
this is not my own language
cause year in year out
I've heard and spoken
 this one sweet voice of love.

My first promotional slideshow ever

Weleda's Demelza.. Why does it sound so good?

Yesss dear voters, I've reached the top 6 in Weleda's Global Garden Challenge!

Here my thanks to all who have voted with a little story about how my daughter reacted to this Weleda Kids 2in1 Shower & Shampoo-gel with a seal on the tube.

A month ago I was looking for a new showergel for my three little earth-angels when the three new weleda-gels for children catched my eyes. A green one with a hippo, a blue one with a dolphin and an orange one with a seal. I thought it would be funny to get one for each of my children.
Livia the Dolphin, Davin the Hippo and Remi the baby-seal, or whatever they would 'fight out' themselves. The supermarket was about to close though and because it was the end of the month and zero was aproaching with a frightening speed, I quickly decided to just pick one. I grabbed the tube with the seal on it and marched to the cash counter with an obvious grin on my face. Being familiar with Weleda's ambrosial fruity scents I already looked forward to shower my children and secretly, myself as wel. For me to know that a product is made under fair conditions in a way that is in harmony with nature, only brings more depth to such delights and while marching to the cash-counter all this joy was in my grin. 

That evening I proudly presented the new catch to my daughter. 'Look, mama bought us a magical soap. It smells of happy orange, don't you think?' Livia nodded. I carefully squeezed the tube so a little white drop of the gel could land on her opened palm. 'But you know what?' I continued, 'You should only use a very small drop, because you don't need much to make you smell like an orange-garden, because this shower gel is so good and strong.'

Livia seemed quite amazed about such a strength but also a little frightened when out of the blue her funny question arose. ''Does it suck blood?' she asked.
'Not that kind of a strong, you funny-jacket' I smiled at her. She laughed at me and happily hopped away from the bathroom in a sweet fragrant cloud of orange.

Tomorrow I will buy all three of these wonderful showergels for my three sandy summerkids, to celebrate my entrance in the top six. :) Thanks again to everyone and please click here to give me your vote, if you've got one for me!

Please vote to turn me from auntie organic into the Weleda-garden queen

 

Dear Friends, I need your help and loving support for the following. As many of you might know since 6,5 years I am a stay at home mum. Some may also know that I find it difficult not to be able to have a job and that I am actively searching for one. The problem is that I can't drive, which limits my options. From March on I will get much less money and I will need to have a job. Now here is something that I would LOVE to do. Weleda offers beautiful organic products (I am like auntie Organic isn't it? ;) ) and they are now looking for someone to visit their different Weleda gardens all across Europe next year while writing a blog about this visits. I studied for writing, my English is good enough, the subject is in my field of interest and I am so ready for the adventure and challenge. Please vote for me and share this en masse to beam me up! Number one of Austria got 60 votes so far and I am sure we can top this!

Here it goes to where you can vote: Laura Weleda Queen

My thankfulness is eternal, if I get this oppurtunity.

Love,
Laura

My work to be a womanly woman

                                                        My painting Pregnant Moon

Some bodies learn to grow well from a nest of insults
to suffer like the transgender child that can’t
get to know a men-made world
that is constantly rejecting

I have heard my work is too feminine
that my bachelor doesn’t mean a thing
because I sing with birds in my flowy skirt
and fall silent when it is all opinions

In groups I could not speak for about two years
when everyone was shining while socializing
I got more introverted like folding inwards
while giving birth to invasive flowers

Thick stems, bursting petal-heads
that bee attracting business
with rude love at the sweet core
of my uncompromising homesickness

This impossible act is called existence
the healthy beast of quantum physics
for who once gained the love of hope
and won’t let go despite its weak from hunger

Back to the home we are sick for
that doesn’t only judge people’s inner gender
when deviating from the outer gender
but also women for being women
or men for being men

Eh.? Where are you in your superior words
A desk looks in its flatness not at all like the world
nor does a book, even that has to grow inside her
while you for once remain freaking quiet

Beast of thought, my biochemistry makes me
a womanly woman and I couldn’t care
more or less since here is my world for everyone

Talking to the faceless one, the brilliant concept
I draw natural studies of sensual orchids
inside his thorax

You can’t with all
your intellectual might
escape our flowing out
in sounds and tastes and colors
'
and yes, this is my work
the way the earth breathes
in giving, taking back.  

Calm wild in lover's eyes

A poem for my beloved Heath 

In comparisons sweeter than
the hummingbird bee’s favorite blossom
is the song you fingerpick me home with

In your eyes I don’t need to be determined
you can see a hummingbird in a butterfly
on some wings appear predator’s eyes
or the kite that you lost as a child
that flew off on the wind with love
while it kept on flowing through
your chest of earth

Now you are literally everywhere
you follow invisible threads with your eyes
to see a web and people being equilibrists
on each other’s lines

If someone falls all forms a net
this way your guitar-play weaves my bed

When grown-ups as in a folk-song shake their heads
crying all over their desks that life really is a mess
you lay your hand on their backs to think of star-fish 

How cool love of sea closes in while it frees. 



LDB - 8-8-2017

Mash-garden, what's in a word?

To live trilingual is good food for a mind that is always hungry for philosophy.

Today for example I was wondering about the Dutch word 'moestuin', that would literally translated
turn into mash-garden. 'Mash' refers to vegetable or fruit-mash, which I associate with food for babies or applesauce (appelmoes) that we used as kids to cool down our food, even on lasagna. This shows how poetic a language Dutch can be, in this case including associations that might for many, refer to childhood memories. In my imagination I see a whole idyllic neighborhood of loving parents growing carrots and co while already thinking about mashing them up in the kitchen for their babbling sweethearts.

At the same time it seems a bit un-zen to already have a processed version of the vegetable in mind while standing there with seeds and earth overgrown with weeds in early spring. At this point it is still a long way to mash and a lot of work and dedication is requiered. Growing vegetables is in some way a bit like raising children and as we know nature can be tough. Not each fertilized egg turns into a baby, the same way not each well cared for seed in fertile soil even turns into a sprout. If we would include our expectations of our baby into the word like we do with vegetables in the word 'moestuin', we would possibly speak of our adult-baby or our engineer-baby but this would be a bit untimely and pretentious, eh?

English people call it 'kitchen-garden', apparently thinking about their kitchen while raising their sprouts that might cary veg one day. German people have the most literal name, but with 'Gemüsegarten' (vegetable-garden) they still push their high expectations on their seeds too much to my opinion. Sometimes I am waiting for some lettuce-sprouts to come up the same way Vladimir and Estragon are waiting for Godot and I find myself frustrated in the dissapointment-garden. Despite associative words might include a lot of beautiful poetry in everyday life, I rather find myself witnessing with acceptation whatever arises (or not) in the garden-garden.

Because of witnessing the true nature of the garden I am even more proud and thankful for the fruits. The dreams I do not include in my words can come to fruitation from alone to surprise me, and eventually, from raw to mashed, feed my children.