skuggar skudrar skymt over kloten det røyver seg i alle mørke krikar no tagnar ikkje lenger, held ikkje føremåla lenger løynd skakar hava våre, lagar krasse ringar i vatna da tyder njet tyder fake news tyder sieg heil uroa veks når hissinga pip rundt nova

skjønt, vona dryp som sildrande skjær frå trea, frå mosen, frå lavet, frå fungi, frå insekt, frå kre

skiftande menn’skjenatur er uføreseieleg der traumer har fått råde (kvifor har dei fått råde?)

men dei barkhuda har djupe røter og store, omsluttande, trygge greiner dei har møtt skiftande vindar før

likevel står dei her, framleis støtt — om vi lét dei.

#dikt #poesi #nynorsk

Old Lost Brother

#poem #poetry #dikt #poesi

Blanks. New beginnings. Fresh start. How else can we continue?

A continuation of the present is but a continuation of the past, which has been the way of things through centuries; a status quo of utter madness.

A clean slate is the only solution if we want any change. Do we want a future that is different from our present and from our past?

To try to mend what we have now, is but an illusion that upholds the status quo; it is merely to pretend that we are dealing with the situation, when in fact we keep playing according to the rules that always were steering our course towards demolishion.

This mess we have created and upheld for centuries can not be repaired. We can only move on to a new level, collectively; rise above our differences and re-discover our kinship.

To try to overcome the “other part” will always fail, for we are cousins. When one suffer, all suffer. We are not two people, but one; for the fate of the one determins the fate of the other.

We will get nowhere on this path of destruction, but we have already tread the war-trenches too deep. We walk blindly about in underground circles, fireing our cannons, getting blasted, cussing, re-charging.

We shall have to get back up to ground level if we are to see eye to eye. Together we must fill the war-trenches with mud and soil, and together plant the olive fields to seal our new ways; and together we shall harvest the fruit, together we shall eat in the celebration of our kinship, and we shall be amazed at why we didn't shake hands any sooner; for we shall cry tears over the find of the old lost brother that was deeply missed by heart.

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