( reading time 3 min)
In all my different attempts to write a text for 'Eve - Open And Safe', I have written about my experiences as an adolescent woman, about the sexualization of female bodies, about the insecurity and fear one lives with as a woman at times and so on.
At some point, I thought that these were my personal experiences that I was recapitulating. I had doubts as to whether I would even reach the point I was aiming for with this review.
So one day in June, at the Baltic Sea, I made an attempt to look forward. I wrote something like a poem that doesn't rhyme and that I don't even know if it is a poem.
I dream of Eve
I dream of Eve
Eve in the sweetness of the scent of flowers.
Eve in the throat of a spring bird.
Eve in the velvet darkness of a warm summer night.
Eve in the colorful, multiform harvest of an autumn
Eve in the dough being kneaded and in the soup bubbling on the stove.
Eve in the space around the fire, by the stove and under the blanket.
Eve in the tree, which is still bare,
now sprouting bright green,
and then turns into strong, dark green leaves,
soon to throw them to the ground, colorful and dry.
Eve in the permission to be everything,
to circle, to orbit, you yourself...
Eve in the wind, with world-traveling seeds.
Eve in the storm that uproots trees, frays and digests, gives birth to new earth.
Eve in the rivers from here to there,
that wash around, swirl, smooth, find their way.
Eve in caring for others.
Eve in the open heart with which you listen and understand.
Eve in our hugs and touches.
Eve in my smile, which I give away endlessly.
Eve when we make love, when we give ourselves.
Eve, who lies with us on the grass in the sun.
Eve dancing in hand- and heart-made garments.
Underneath, the shamelessness of her human nature.
Eve in every young woman who moves freely.
Without fear of darkness and dark corners.
Eve who unfolds into the most diverse plants with thorns and blossoms in her time.
Eve is the impossibility of wars.
Nothing chases, nothing drives. No either-or.
We give what we have. We like to give ourselves gifts.
The world is Eve and Eve always has enough.
Sits in a basket of fruit, eats and distributes.
More than necessary, promises fall to the ground, sprout, grow large, bear flowers, leaves, fruit. Become food for body and soul, a cloak, a house.
Eve guides with her heart.
Transforms the world in her womb, lets go, gives back...
starts all over again.
1 comment
Oh ich mag dein Gedicht, die Evas auf Erden. Schön dass du es teilst. Danke und viel Erfolg.