Chantal Lammerts Poems

Pretending…

When the little innocent bird,
Sings the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard.
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Seven colours, each unique,
Their meaning is what I seek,
Different opinions, all make sense,
But still don’t go over conscious’ fence.
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A place, where the raw magic still lives,
Where everything has it’s true colour,
Where rainbows cover the sky,
And our greatest wisdom is our earned valour.
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And there stands the king,

Ones there was a king,
Who’d always start to sing,
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“Let go, ” the little bird whispered to the fox,
“Let go, come back, and you’ll know.”
The man let his right hand go through his curly locks,
“Let go, and you’ll know…”
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What is life; more than a delay between past and future?
What is future; when life is nothing more than a halt?
Is there anything at all? These thoughts work as a torture,
If it is nothing, is it anyone’s fault?
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Slowly the river moves,
High mountains down,
Away from me,
Deep enough to drown.
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Oh, do I love the sweet and fresh smell of Roses,
And the way the elegant Lotus closes,
How I love the shining happiness of the sunflower,
Or the dew that gives our treasures a beautiful shower.
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Faith is a deep jump into the dark, only following the voice of your heart,
It is about trusting your friend, letting down your impenetrable guard,
Faith is a blind movement towards distant, unknown directions,
It’s about seeing nothing more than your own revealing reflections,
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Dreaming is my way to hope, my escape,
It reflects my thoughts, but in a different shape,
They tell me it’s not healthy, not mature,
But I see differently, that’s for sure,
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