The light fading into a wonderful sunset


When light fades,
stars are being conquered
the silent night
waiting for me

Dreams haunting us
shadows of the past
quickly slipping by on the wall

Mirrors of gold
glistening in the air
throwing back at us
the wisdom we all know

We ride together
on the ocean wave
the moon guiding our steps

Looking back into a future
that never happened
we begin to realize
that we are eternity



A picture of everlasting snow — outside my window the first snow is falling, silencing the world

The first snow
Silently falling to the ground

Taking sorrows, secrets
Words never spoken aloud
For a deep winters’ sleep

Cleaning our mourning's
Taking the colour, the feelings out of things

Listen to the silent breath
Calming a turbulent earth

All of a sudden, nature coming to a halt
Slowing its pace and stopping
To breath out

Regaining its deep connection to mother earth
A warm blanket covering its surface
Muffling all sounds

There is time for spring, when we will wake up again
We will awaken to take a new breath, to a new world
There is always time to start all over again

Rest dear friend, rest, until you may awaken again



A lake at a campside we stayed at in the summer — this is the view in the morning

And there it was, natures first kiss
Settling on my lips like morning dew

Clear and shiny drops, lingering, staying
Tasting of leaves and flowers, of flora and fauna,

Their colours a manifest of joy
The willows singing in the wind

Cradling into the stillness
Listening to the sound of love
Like a child looking at the world in wonder
A longing for more, a longing for an everlasting moment

When we see the world as if for the first time
When we see the world every day anew
When we are in awe about the little things
We have reached our goal, our destiny, to be



It is this time of the year again,
leaves falling, dancing in the wind.

The light is dimmed,
oceans silent, waiting for the next wave.

Like a child hugging its legs,
the world is wrapping itself for winters breath.

When will we just be, when will we stop to survive…



All my life, I have written poems. When I was 8 the words started to come in a shaky handwriting.
I am 40 years old now, and over the past 15 years the words somehow became less. I missed them, I felt empty without the words. Somehow I felt that…



Conny Schättle

Conny Schättle


I have always liked words. To me they are secrets that, like the butterfly’s wings sometimes conceal their real beauty until we open up to them.