Passion and the pen

Red

Mar
23

I felt connected to this lonely cat
laying on a warm red rock by the ocean
She was looking straight at me.
I looked back, into her being –
For one moment I was the cat
and the cat was me, we shared this
evening as a silent prayer of letting life,
and every pain in it, just be.

Waves were roaring at a near distance
The wind brushing my hair like a large
caring hand, just before sunset, just
before the end, the cat looked at me
one more time; then settled her eyes on the
ocean. I followed her into the storm and
were carried away by this calm, living
inside the waves, that I adore.

This red cat must have a tiger heart
Brave, but too large to fit inside…

(Sirle Körvits, 2017)

Iron Wing

Mar
23

Iron wings
in a weightless world
one broken soul has found
They seem to be for flying
but somehow are weighing her down
She wonders about the shape of the wings
inviting freedom from suffering within
but found in a world too heavy to bear
wings of iron… she bows her head
and on dark eyelashes are glittering tears
She with iron wings is captured by fears
buried within a silent cry
She tried…

Only the wind is holding her dreams
about friendship, love and to live free

Who wants to hold her…
without cutting her wings
and together
forever
to be.

(Sirle Körvits, 2017)

Poet

Feb
18

POET
Passion is the essence
Obsession the discipline
Emotion the waves of words
Thinking beginning and end.
It is thunder and a calm
A paradox in being
I would lie if I said only to build
Sometimes it’s for tearing apart
of wounds of old long forgotten
not forgotten in the heart of the poet
No, in this heart there is the essence
The essence of passion
Passion does not forget
My words are waves
and I sometimes nearly drown
But still I am alive
Still I am a poet.

(Sirle Kõrvits, 2017)

In between hurt and healing

Feb
18

When burned you know
that cautious is your shield
When betrayed you know
trust is a precious pearl…
you now carefully choose
who to give to.
In between hurt and healing
I know my trust is safe
and my heart, my life, my all
only in the hands of Christ
The sweetheart of my soul
And the Love of my life.

(Sirle Kõrvits, 2017)

Come with me

Feb
13

Alone, I stand on top of the mountain
I found myself here while wandering…
I lift my hands into the position of flying
Close my eyes and imagine… imagine
How the light of the sun together with
the light breeze of february wind
coming from my lake is lifting me up
from the ground into the skies where I belong.

Come with me. I whisper. Come.

(Sirle Kõrvits, 2017)

Touch

Feb
13

Oh, I feel you filling me so close
Poetry you came back to me
I opened my heart to receive
All your tenderness and your griefs
Your words, sounds, rhythm and touch.
So this is the place you chose
To wait for me
You never liked easy
And now I am here and you with me.
It is on the narrow road you put all
your whispers and secrets to decipher
It’s only on there I can pick them up
And only here, within me, love them
until a poem is born and sent out to touch.

(Sirle Kõrvits, 2017)

I was dreaming

Feb
12

I was dreaming that I had a dream
It was a dream in a dream
I could go with or stay on spot
I wanted to stay but also to go
Steps seemed to slow and thoughtful
So I decided to take my wings
And fly above to see them together
I saw a prism made of thousands of
dreams melting into one heart beating
a stable bloodstream of life abundantly.

(Sirle Kõrvits, 2017)

Om en fågel

Feb
12

(This is a poem in swedish, I have not translated it)

OM EN FÅGEL

Under valvkapporna i Sancta Clara
där vill jag sväva när stormen är för nära
och tunga droppar tynger ned och dränker
Drömmen tystnaden där mig åter skänker.

Under valvkapporna skyddas mina vingar
Det finns plats för många av oss –
Vi med nedtrampade, brustna, knappt
bärande vingar; vi andas där, vi vilar.

Under valvkapporna i Sancta Clara
där vill jag sväva och bo och leva
Bland berättelsen om min Kristus
som genom tro, i kärlek, mina vingar helar.

Under de eviga himlavalven hos Kristus
vill jag i evigheten vara Honom nära
Det är Gud som torkar bort alla tårar
och skänker liv och frid, vår evige Far,
endast Han är värd all ära!

(Sirle Kõrvits, 2017)

 

 

It wasn’t you

Feb
12

It wasn’t you
Not me
It was us.

(Sirle Kõrvits, 2016)

Wind

Feb
12

The wind was cold
and the waves had a dance
I wanted to be in their hands.

(Sirle Kõrvits, 2016)