Thursday, April 1, 2021





Life Is Spirituality


Life is spiritual

Only to those who listen

Listen to the words of the Maker

To the words that were programmed

Already in our hearts and in our thoughts

One shouldn’t walk

Beside oneself

Excusing actions of faith

Being the will of the Maker

For it is in fact he

He who have given us all

Our own and free will

And power to decide

So it’s therefore that we

We and no one else

Must take our own responsibility

For what we do and how we act

As long as I can remember

Actually ever since I was born

From that day on

Through early childhood

I felt the presence

Of spirituality in my life

I saw the picture clearly

In the reflection of

My mirror of life

I saw what’s good for my soul

Yes, I saw already then

All richness coming from above

And I learned everything

About the gifts of nature

So I took all of this in

And nursed it all and gave it back

I also showed entirely

My own true gratitude

And always shared with others

Everything that I knew

I knew already then

All the mysteries of life

Lust like in a closed circle

There is a meaning with everything!



The White Rose


There are many

White roses

In this world

There are many

Who have a strong

And lovely smell

Many of them

Have caught my eye

But very few

Have touched my heart

So strong and intense

with its fragrance so subtle

The fragrance

that penetrate the words

The words

that become a poem

The poem

that touches all feelings

the feelings

that awakes all senses

When I see the white rose bleeding

with the red tears of love

That’s when I want to hide

Hide myself in my own poems

Where all symbols speaks

Their clear and direct language

Where all feelings can bloom

For the sake of the white rose

There are many white roses in the world

But only one that has deeply touched my heart

With its innocent, white color!



The Man With White Frost In His Beard        


In our garden - early one morning

I see the man of December

Every season has its keeper

He is sitting on a stub

Dressed in a coat so white

The morning sun reflects itself

In his bushy frosty beard

His thick white frock

His fur cap and his bag

At first I thought

He was a stranger

That had lost himself

In our wilderness

But then I realized

He comes around

Sent by winter

This time each year

He wears a fur cap

Made out of pure fog

That the northern wind

Has woven

A bushy beard

Made of pure white frost

That the frozen dew

Has kissed




In my –‘---‘- dreams

I have already seen him

High up in the Universe

Walk along the Milky Way

Made of pure white frost


Inside his big, white robe

Snowflakes are glittering

And thousands of diamonds

Of frozen morning dew

Outside maybe cold and frozen

But in his heart so warm and true

He knew exactly

Where he was headed

He knew just when

The time was right

And now he’s sitting

On his stub in our garden

Just like times passed

This time each year

He knows

That I’ve been waiting

And he knows

I understand

And I know

That he will bring

All good balance

In nature calm

On his shoulder

A huge old sack

All filled with fresh

And frozen snow


Of warmth his eyes

They just do glitter

Just like beacons

Of peace itself

He talks to the birds

The birds/robins in the trees

He talks to the deers

The deers on the meadow

He talks about the passing

Of nature and time

I am the man of December

And I am here to secure

Nature’s rest after (a) stormy fall

Before all life in spring

Will shoot forth anew

Although it outside

Is all cold and windy

Although it outside

Sometimes even snows

It is still in balance

And he do seem pleased

With all that he sees

In our garden so dear

The trees (all)tell him stories

About blooming and greenness

About late summer’s harvests

And of ‘-----‘-‘ ‘---

The man of December

Makes notes in his book

Everything thorough

‘Bout the passing of nature


Then he gets up

And walks around in our garden

And he seems really happy

With all things around

So he spreads a thick cover

Of leaves and home-made frost

He blesses and grants the earth

Its winter rest and peacefulness

Then he slowly covers

Each bush and every tree

Each flower-field and meadow

So that all of nature

Will safely be tucked in

Until next year’s dawn

Next year’s dawn of spring

Now everything in our garden

Is so breathtakingly calm

Just like a deep breath

Waiting to exhale

Prepared for its winter-rest

Prepared for its winter-sleep

To set the nature at peace

And to let it regain itself

To regain – to rejoice

To be able to wake up

To a life all anew

To a new spring once more!

© Joanna Svensson




In The Land Of Bright Light


In the land of brightest light

I have clearly seen

Sparkling raindrops blooming

And hearty poems flying

Carried by butterfly wings

The wind I have seen

Dressed in a colorful mantle

Meant for eternity

Waiting there for me

Standing on the top of a hill

From there he showed me the world

Laying deep down below us

Swept in a light blue veil

A veil that was connected

Connected with the city of light

Connected by the glowing road of light

He did not say a single word

But still I understood

For I could sense his silent words

Through his melodic humming

I sensed his seasonal melody

Like so many times before

When in my garden I often sat

Contemplating over my life

My life and all its meaning

And all what goes around

And all that comes around



He often sent me messages

Through all the seasons here

Remembering early springs

With butterflies and flowers

And gentle juvenile green

That’s when windows of life

Were opened once again

Through the soft, warm nights of summer

Towards ripe and prosperity

With falling leaves of autumn

And sighs of golden longing

Then winter’s shimmering flakes of snow

Tapping on windows of repose

I felt myself swept by happiness

I felt a strong connection

And drawn towards the land of light

The earth just suddenly felt

So tiny and so distant

Out there in the endless universe

I saw my lucky star of light

Shining ever so bright

There in my calendar of life

Way up in the vault of heaven

I often sense the nearness

Of the city of light above

When whispers of weakness and doubts

Darkens my way of thinking

When meaning and intention

Of life I do debate



Then for my inner sense

I see the town of light

Right there in the land of brightness

Where for the very first time I saw

The sparkling raindrops blooming

Where I saw my poems take flight

With butterfly’s swiftly wing beats

Towards the eternal light!




In Another Time


In the old enchanted castle

There’s an old enchanted mirror

Anyway, it feels

As if there was

When sunset tips around

My little peaceful cottage

Once again I feel

Like standing right in front of it

And all of a sudden

I sense I am transformed

Into the Lady of the castle

A Lady in another time

Now the time has totally stopped

And the mirror has turned around

Instead of moving forward

The clock is ticking backwards

Now the time has stopped

And it takes a deep breath

-Such a lovely time it is! it says

-I think I’ll say a little while!

-I want to rest here and now.

-If only just for a tiny moment.

From an illuminated inner room

I hear husky voices speak

In an old dialect they are debating

Its voices I know so well

The rhythm of the language

Brings my childhood back to me

In the background a brittle cembalo

Is playing childhood melodies

And the fragrances are so intense

Of roses I do remember

From the garden of the castle

Plucked in utmost secret there

I place my arm – at once I see

In the reversed mirror of time

I am there – facing the castle mirror

Yes, I am here – but in another time!




JOANNA SVENSSON is a Swedish poet, writer and novelist.  She has been writing and publishing her works ever since her early teens.  As a poet she has at present eight books of poetry of which The Seven Colors of my Life is published in the USA (in English and Arabic) in 2019 and De sju färgerna i mitt liv in Sweden (in Swedish) in 2020 and  Czas Bez Dat; published in Polish in 2019. Longing (Sehnsucht) is a poetry collection in two parts (in German) published 2007 and 2008. As a writer she has published two large fiction novels The Secret of the Medallion and The Key to Heaven in a trilogy. The third one on the other Side of the Door is ready for publishing in 2021.    Beside a new poetry collection Beyond the Tears of Rain, two other projects are in progress at the moment: A collection of 10 short stories Behind the Green Curtain, and a childrens-book, illustrated by her husband Per Josefsson, who is a professional translator, graphic designer and illustrator.    Fluid in three languages, she writes in Swedish, German and Polish. Her husband translates all of her work to english. She is a member of the Swedish Author Society and  The Society of Polish Writers living abroad. Has participated in several anthologies over the years and achieved many acknowledgements for her prose and poetry.  Her books are available at Akademibokhandeln and at BOKUS and at the Royal Library in Stockholm. In 2019 she was awarded 1:st prize at the Bucharest International Festival of Literature for her first novel “The Secret of the Medallion” which is now being translated into English.  She is also very active in both Swedish and Polish literary society and she participates in several international prose- and poetry festivals around the world.


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