This Being Human – Dedicated to Karin Boye

The road might be long and windy,
but with will and intention
we can make the journey the point,
not an unforeseeable future goal.

This being human is a journey on unknown roads.
A journey without any set goals.

Every morning a new path to walk.
Full of wonders and delight,
but also pain, sorrow and fright.
Your job is to enjoy and endure.
Find your voice and chart your own path.

Every evening a new fork in the path.
A new chance to learn and thrive,
or another instance you run and hide.

Every day a twist in your way.
Everything good or bad there to teach you if it may.
Everything sent for you to learn, to listen to what your heart, soul and true self say.

Every night a new turn in your trail.
Will you learn your lesson, find wisdom and compassion.
Let your dreams to heaven and beyond set sail.

This being human is a journey on unknown roads.
It’s the voyage that counts, not the goal.


Written for Poetics: The Art of Being Human at dVerse. Where Kim gives us a Rumi poem full of metaphor (last in this post). And challenges us to “write a metaphor poem that starts with the words ‘This being human is…’”

There are so many ways you can go with this but I ended up with a journey metaphor. I’ll see this one as a first rough draft because there is so much more you can put in there, but this is all my migraine allowed me to write.

As I read it through I realized I once again had ended up with a line – the last one – that is directly inspired by one of my favorite Swedish poets Karin Boye. And one of her most known poems – I rörelse (In motion).
Another time a similar line popped up was in – Leaves Fall to Moulder

Like with Tomten by Viktor Rydberg, I couldn’t find a translation I truly liked, even though you can find several at the Karin Boye Society

So I did my own! (Read below)

In motion, by Karin Boye,
translated by RedCat

The satiated day is never greatest or first.
The best day is a day of thirst.

There might be goals and purpose to our path,
but it is the journey that gives the effort worth.

The best goal is a nightlong rest,
where the fire is lit and the bread shared in haste.

In places where you sleep but once,
your sleep becomes safe and your dreams full of song.

Strike camp! Move on! The new day dawns.
Endless is our great adventure hereupon.

In motion, by Karin Boye, translated by RedCat

Photo by Johannes Plenio from Pexels

The Guest House by Rumi

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.​

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

​Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

​Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

The Guest House by Rumi
Photo by Ivica Džambo from Pexels

Searching For A Way – 8 December

Photo by Nikhlesh Tyagi from Pexels

Searching for a way
For the right words to say
I long for the dawn of a new day

Searching for a new life
Passionate, loving, without strife
Filled with strobing nightlife
Abundant wildlife

Searching for a new dream
Asking guidance of a moonbeam
For the path where creativity teem


Right now life feels small, cold and lonely for many, and for me. So I tried for some hope, light and life in today’s Advent Calendar poem.

The midwinter darkness has felt exte oppressive lately. The unseasonable warmth keeps the skies grey and foggy rather than the crisp, nipping, sunny air the season should have (unless there’s snowfall of course).
Today I read that the instruments in Stockholm and several other cities have measured ZERO sunhours in December.

So a warming climate makes the winter darkness more oppressive, by denying us the few hours of sunlight, robbing us off the white cover, starving us from reflected moonlight. A full moon can make a clear snowy December night brighter than an overcast December midday.

Some days I have hope for a new spring, perhaps next summer without a pandemic looming. A world coming together on the pandemic and the climate.
Other days, when the sun has not been seen for more than a week. I feel cold desolation, touch deprivation and failing hope. A world gone to smoking cinders, cascading ecological disaster, all ending in an egotistic whimper.

Not knowing to hope or despair, over the fact that the human race has its destiny in its own hands.

The road might be long and windy,
but with will and intention
we can make the journey the point,
not an unforeseeable future goal.

There Once was a Word

Photo by Artem Beliaikin from Pexels

There once was a word
Wanting not only to be read
But said
And heard

It wanted to be whispered dearly
Wanted to be shared
Make hearts flare
Then vowed clearly

It exist to be our guiding star
Steady rock
Home dock
There whether we are close or far

At the speed of thought
On the wings of a dove
Two souls care
Two hearts dare
To take a chance on Love!


A Happiness Project seems like something not only I, but everyone, everywhere needs right now, so I decided to make an extra effort to write lighter and happier pieces during November.

Even more important I made a vow to myself to get back to writing daily! And no better month to do that then NaNoWriMo.

Photo by Shamia Casiano from Pexels

Return To New Normal

Photo by Oleg Magni on

What will the world look after the pandemic? How will the geopolitical landscape change? How will that affect me personally?
Will one catastrophe lead us to accept responsibility for, and take action against, the looming human made climate emergency.

Even before the pandemic my life where in flux, changing. It still is.
A history of unprocessed trauma, a newly acquired trauma activating full PTSD and leading to major depression, will do that to a life. But now the urgency to imagine a better future, for all humans, feels even more acute.

So what should I do? Change career?
Change residence from city to wildwood?
First step. Change myself to the core! Rewriting those programs that prohibits self-love, true self, esteem, courage to live my truth, my goals, my dreams.

In springs pale rebirth
I see the truth of seasons
Birth, growth, change, rebirth

© RedCat

Posted as response to Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge: Tuesday, May 5, 2020.

Photo by Janko Ferlic on

Just To Be Thankful — Phoebe, MD: Medicine + Poetry

Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough …and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and […]

Just To Be Thankful — Phoebe, MD: Medicine + Poetry

Since I recently started writing gratitude lists, this poem spoke a bit extra to me.

Beyond Crisis

The artist says it ‘evokes the building of a world with more solidarity and more humanity’

From vantage high
Floating with birds in the sky
A girl appear to our eye

My world lies in tattered ruins
Tomorrow on hold as millions sickens
Future unsure as planet fills with poison

Alone on a mountaintop
She despair to hope swap
Humanity hand-in-hand in co-op

Let us rise from the ashes
Together with compassionate actions
Build a new green world for all humans


The other day I ran across pictures of Guillaume Legros artwork Beyond Crisis. Ever since then It’s been on my mind. And today together with Go Dog Go’s Tuesday Writing Prompt it became a poem.

Gratitude list

As you might have noticed, I’m having a bad time.

So no better time to try something new!

5 Things I’m grateful for today!

  • Allowing myself time spent in nature and spring sunlight.
  • That I have meditation to lean on.
  • That I’ve managed to keep writing.
  • Thankful for all the joy and positive energy I get from dancing.
  • The possibility and opportunity to get out and see the world, carefully keeping physical distance.

Sitting here, listening to the waves and birdsong. Life feel a bit less bleak.

Make Art – Triolet inspired by Neil Gaiman and Chris Riddell

“A creative call to arms, the book will champion freedom of ideas, making art in the face of adversity and choosing to be bold. It will be inspirational to young and old, and will encourage glorious, creative rebellion.”


Be bold. Be rebellious. Make art.
Be wise. Make good art. It matters.
Set goals. Dream big. Follow your heart.
Be bold. Be rebellious. Make art.
Read books. Get ideas. Make art.
Be brave. Be free. Be dreamers. Be.
Be bold. Be rebellious. Make art.
Be wise. Make good art. It matters.


I love triolets, ever since the form was introduced to me at dVerse. I’ve blogged two so far, both belonging to the serious side, Sit, waiting, longing, only you and Awash in Aching Loneliness. So today I tried to find some hope and light to write about.

My eyes fell on – ART MATTERS – by Neil Gaiman and illustrated by Chris Riddell. My Easter gift. A little nugget of hope. A fairy light showing the unseen path. Bright shining wise words.

After that first line, the feet and rhythm, made their own melody. As they so often do.

My gratitude and thanks to Frank Hubeny for teaching me this form and to misters Gaiman and Riddell for hope and inspiration.

“The world always seems brighter when you’ve just made something that wasn’t there before”

― Neil Gaiman, Art Matters

On prompt today at NaPoWriMo, also linking to The Writer’s Pantry, earthweal’s open link weekend and Promote Yourself Monday.

GloPoWriMo 2020

DAY 1 – Build a New Start
DAY 2 – Beloved Bookstore
DAY 3 – Sunshine and Hail
DAY 4 – Isolation Dating
DAY 5 –Staring out a Windowpane
DAY 6 – Casanova Comes Closer
DAY 7 – Swirling Colors of my Mind
DAY 8 – White – Red – Black
DAY 9 – Different World After
DAY 10 – Spring Hay(na)ku
DAY 11 – Love – Hay(na)ku
DAY 12 – Make Art – Triolet inspired
by Neil Gaiman and Chris Riddell
DAY 13 – What did you think would happen
to a child left on my doorstep?
DAY 14 – Ballad of the Lost Poet
DAY 15 – Writer’s class – Hay(na)ku
DAY 16 – What is a Nomad without a Tribe?
DAY 17 – Pale Spring, Here Again, Nature Awake
DAY 18 – Spring Day in the Garden
DAY 19 – Close Couplets
DAY 20 – Lost in Love’s First Flush
DAY 21 – She Tasted Like Memory
DAY 22 – Struggling Mind
DAY 23 – Written in the book of dust
DAY 24 – At the end of every week, Friday-Cozy!
DAY 25 – Slip, Crack, Shatter
DAY 26 – Humans Really Don’t Know
DAY 27 – April Rain
DAY 28 – Greeting the Watch Horse
DAY 29 – Letter of Hope
DAY 30 – Witches Walpurgis Night Preparation

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