Türchen 10 (von Iris)

I would like to share a poem with you which my father wrote in dutch. I translated it into English.

Transformation

The old is left behind,
Falling apart in one thousand pieces.
The connection lost, broken.
The Earth is shaking,
Houses loose their form,
Water is flowing over them.
Patterns without cohesion,
Just clouds of dots,
Random distribution, pure chaos.

But from depths unknown,
The new is rising,
Growing,
Materializing.
Dots are looking for a new formation,
Forming a crystal matrix,
Connecting anew,
Lines reaching for a future.

Death is smiling,
Filling me with fears,
A vile wrestler,
Without any mercy.
My mind cannot comprehend anything anymore,
I am turning in circles.
Endless revolutions and unknown pains.
My body knows no way out,
Keeping me imprisoned in the Earth,
Confined,
Chasing me through Time.
The mask of Death is seducing,
Luring me in his black arms.

Behold: surrender is a gateway.
The mask is breaking up,
A new landscape lies in front of me.
The water washed everything white,
Renewed, re-colored.

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