Magic of number 9

9 square paintings to make a square, 9 poems came quickly, poems that found a dialogue to respond to Ms Bruggemann’s 9 watercolours,  

as though determined long ago to be acknowledged, given salutations,living images, beautiful, intimate green world, scenes remembered in the seasons along the way.

I was taken in by what she conjured, and responded with poetry:

through a portal the paintings created, the poems came to me. 

Curious I wanted to learn the significance of the number 9. Which I am offering here:

Number 9 is the number of Universal love, eternity, faith, Universal Spiritual Laws, the concept of karma, spiritual enlightenment, spiritual awakening, service to humanity, humanitarianism and the humanitarian, lightworking and lightworkers, leading by positive example, philanthropy and the philanthropist, charity, 


Out Beyond There Is A Field

I meet You  There….


This kind of meadow requires reverence

our Iroquois guide held us back

till we saw the myriad life there bobbing

and dancing in the warm illumined sunshine

said there are nature spirits here

like the pollen you don’t see

nourish the honey bee

At the end of the branch, perhaps

only one flower will bloom. Stay a while

there is promise here

in all that you are looking for

most subtle magic gloriously present

Have you seen angels like these

partially hidden in the buttercup flames

move the leaves gentle as breeze

silence alive in you, a quiet joy in watching. 

Look up in the trees as light filters through

and now, turning your arms outstretched

loose yourself, rise and be carried off

to whispers and summer seduction

in the sheltering trees

I see storms and chaos

churning rain in the groaning

and peace a plenty imagining things. 

Sometimes there is inexplicable weeping

ideas once tenable become altogether obsolete

between day and night there is reconciliation

storm clouds become summer rain.

I would walk here on a summer day

as evening painted brilliant colors on what

moments ago seemed a static green. Is not transformation what we seek out in our lives

we can rest here a while, and listen.

I was lost in the mystery of what opened

before me, grasses green as fire,

cobalt outcroppings screened behind wild foliage

suggestions of something surmised

in drifting clouds.

this atmosphere holds a secret we wish to enter.

And there she is in lavender,

ephemeral. fairy-like

humble, some might call a weed flower

but to me regal as a queen

come upon by chance.

Her golden eyes gaze up, silent

to who might pass her by. 

Winter hush draped over

in new snow. A time when the green world

has gone into it's sleepy house.

Spring, serenely confident, sleeps a while longer

will emerge in perfect form to break some heart.

The river too, hidden beneath snow covered ice

flows over its rocky bed in perpetual song.

The series of 9 paintings by Brigitte Brüggemann 

watercolor on aqua-cradle board 8"x8"x2"