One Of Substance, Like Mandela…

I have to be what I am
to be what I will be,
I have to wither through winter,
to blossom in spring,
I have to feel pain,
to know what joy is,
I had to get lost
to be found,
I had to be put to shame
to never want to loose my pride again,
I had to get out of my nest,
to know how being free really feels,
I had to shed tears
to make every smile last longer,
I needed to travel
to see the world at large,
I needed to fight for my right
to gain what was rightfully mine,
I didn’t need to be conquered
to know how sweet victory really is,
and I didn’t need to look for anything other than peace
to know how crippling war can really be,
and through life,
I continue to learn,
learning all I can
to know that I know little of everything,
and I continue to do,
doing all I can
to make sure tomorrow is brighter than the last,
looking back on every yesterday’s
with the sole purpose of never making the same mistakes,
and looking forward to tomorrows,
with the sole desire of going further and further
with hope in my mind,
and to work with these hands…

Heart Of Love…

Your beauty
silences my mind,
all that is held within,
and all that is let out
makes even more of a picture
than your own reflection,
when you say hi,
I see butterflies
fluffing inside my heart,
when you say hey,
i hear the saints,
singing,
“oh happy day”,
you look at me,
and my every thought
becomes melodic,
you stare,
and there’s no where else
I’d rather be,
the very first words you utter
calms me down
like thirst
quenched by water,
and the next
stitches together
what wreck
all fears have cast,
your visions are like paintings
for colours are what you make of everything,
and tender are your actions towards me
for care is the ingredient you put
into every of it,
the hills and the mountains,
the valleys and the sinking sands,
springs and summers,
autumns and winters,
seasons will toss and turn,
but you said you’ll never follow,
joys may be lost
and sadness may become,
but you said
you’ll always be my hero,
thus I wondered,
how could a heart
like this
ever be,
but you just smiled
and told me,
“you’ve always
been the same to me”…

Estonian Winter… Poetry Made In Estonia For Estonia…(3)

Estonia,
Almost always
winter,
And it is never cold…

Simple Metaphors Of Estonia… Poetry Made In Estonia For Estonia…(2)

Estonia,
her hair as long as her winter,
Tallinn,
her thrill as unique as her wind,
The old town,
her size, perhaps,
same as her summer,
you’ll get lost in its exciting nights,
and still not want to be found
in the morning…

Broken Heart…(Make Belief)

Broken heart
i thought i saw the pieces shatter,
i thought i heard the words rumbled out like a rumpled bedsheet,
broken heart, i saw trembling water freeze like ice,
i saw summer turn winter in the blink of an eye,
in an instance, i saw her wet eyes like those of the skies,
and then heavy eyes, like the clouds they remained,
then fell down the heights like the rain from a thousand miles,
in time, i saw her turn yellow from green, and then turn gray,
and hit the ground like a leaf off a tree before winter,
rumbling and grumbling silently like thunder behind the clouds,
quietly loud,
hurt was her broken heart, yes, i saw her,
as she laid her head down, and asked why, lord, why,
and got up without an answer, and stumbled upon her broken heart,
in the hands of the man who had turn it apart,
and yes, i saw her give him what was left of her heart, her broken heart,
and then, i saw him give her back what was her’s,
but then i saw him give up what was he’s for her to have,
i saw her smile, i saw them, both smiled,
and what was broken became a circle…