
Between 2011 and 2013, I lived in an open cabin, in the midst of the pristine Amazonian jungle of French Guiana.
This book contains a collection of poems about that period in my life, reflecting the wordless language of this majestic forest, a place that cannot else than guide you finding the silence within.

This grand Amazon, this mighty jungle. Sometimes deafening loud, but mostly eerie quiet. A place of many dangers, but likewise a shelter of complete safety. An utter paradox.
Living in its presence and surrounded by a green, moist cocoon and dense canopy, you have little choice but surrender, to acknowledge its power, and finally see — feel what unfolds in your heart.
I dis-covered an inner silence, realizing that it’s a reflection of the quiet of the forest, and by doing so — understanding that there’s no actual difference, but rather the one being the other.
It’s primeval silence that speaks, a dialogue becoming monologue. What unfolds is that what’s out there becomes in here. Until there’s only one.
Below, three poems from the collection.
Rain of Leaves
Rain of leaves
like Christmas day
your tree of gifts
with many hints
snow of greens
falling down
in silence hushed
by stormy winds
rain of leaves
your way to speak
with many tongues
in single drops
but never loud
nor any words
your sound
that never stops.
You Made This Call
I see you
in the clouds
the trees and leaves
a waterfall
I hear you
in the birds
and in the wind
that carries all
I feel you
in my body
in my heart
you made this call
I vanish
at these moments
joining you
forgetting all.
Your Presence
Cannot deny
not anymore
your presence
your ways
of telling me
you’re there
your ways
of showing me
your essence
shining through
your creatures
everywhere.


