While I picked blueberries in the forest near my home, I felt reconnected with life, reunited with my ancestors. My ancestors had picked these berries in order to survive, which I am grateful for. I pick berries in the desire and in the fulfillment to be one with life. You can read the poem that came to me while collecting the berries below, in English and in German.
| blueberriesthe mosquitos spread my blood in the forest. with every berry that I pick and every bite, the tissue of the forest is stitched to my body. fingers delicate when ell and spoke dance around each other like two butterflies, and the thumb abandons domination, sinks back into the heart. tenderness: the infinite bends almost unnoticed and you are in its hand. earth takes me in in broad daylight, the berries, tiny night blue spheres, sift through the summer day, reversed starry sky. they are collecting me, squatting, forever birthing timelessness. bird’s song so fresh, as if the bird had just flown out of a dewdrop. heidelbeeren die mücken verteilen |