The Poetry of Creation

Creation is a loaded concept. We have our own take to the story of creation, the Creator, what it means to be human and what we can and cannot do as co-creators. We take all kinds of measures to explore and defend our points of view.


To me, they are all valid. I love the variety of points of view. I love the creativity in perception, interpretation, and expression. I learn from religions, from sciences, from spiritual teachers and mostly from my own personal experiences. I believe in gods and goddesses, in extraterrestrials, in spirit guides, in angels, in ancestral and animal guides, in Gaia and all her children, in elementals and all things we label as mythical. I believe in the cosmos, I believe in my dreams, I believe in other worlds and universes, in past or parallel lives, I believe in beings I don’t know about. I believe in humans.

I believe in myself – in all the aspects of me across all dimensions, space and time.

We are free to experience life in our own way, it’s a gift. We are free to express our beliefs in a way that is life-affirming. We are also free to change our minds about them.

We learn from each other’s point of view. It’s beautiful. But at the end of the day, the truth remains to be and will always be personal. There is no point in arguing with others about them. No one can ever be in a position to be a mediator to assess and put a stamp on which points of view are “right” and which are “wrong”.


I’ve always been interested in the story of creation in particular. As a kid, I would spend nights wondering if “God” created me, who created “God” and so forth. Of course, it never got me anywhere. I ask the same questions until now, thirty years later. Like other humans, there’s just this urge in me to get linear answers to everything, no matter how futile. If others got their answers (at least for the moment) from religion, from their personal spiritual approach, from science, I got mine from poetry and nature.

Poetry enables me to take comfort in the light and the dark, to live with the mysteries of existence, with the richness of nothingness, with the grandeur of reality that we can never contain, with the pointlessness of the answers we’re seeking sometimes.  Nature soothes me to revel in the present moment, knowing it is enough, I am enough here, now. This is all a feast.

I don’t know what I don’t know, and at the same time, I know that I know it all.

I don’t know where it all began or how I came into being and from where, but I am here now where I think I am. I get to experience the outer world in parallel to my capacity of experiencing myself, my inner world. I feel. I marvel. I hurt. I love. I long for. I change. My presence matters. My choices make a difference.



I am you. I am around you.
Like a shadow. A reflection. Your warmth. Your light.
A loving memory. A desire not yet in form. A goal.
Your one last breath. The voice of your soul. A ticking clock.
Triumph. Your most trusted friend.

Your consciousness scatters into many forms, like light.
You think you’re only taking on the point of view
of your human mind. But actually, you are a variety
and All That Is at the same time.
You are sand, you are air, you are fire.
Your consciousness can take any shape or form,
you are there across space and time.

And yet you can never be found.

I can be your lover and your spirit guide.
I can be the sun, the ocean, I can be your child.
I can be the God you’re calling onto.
I can be that stranger in the street, I can hold your hand.
Sometimes I know, sometimes I don’t.
Sometimes I will remember, sometimes I won’t.

I can have many faces. But underneath I will always feel the same to you.
I am supportive of you. I am rooting for your growth, I am rooting for your joy.
I am protective of you. I am comforting you. I long to share waves of laughter with you.

We have moments between us. Or lifetimes.
You can be lightyears away. Or a thought. A heartbeat.
I can always be with you, too, if that’s what you want.

I can be the question, I can be the answer.
I can be a long flat line.
You can stay. I can go with you.
It doesn’t really matter.
You can run away from me. You can surrender.
Either way, you are always where you belong,

at home.


Audio version:

Music by Ketsa- Awaits

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