Half moon waxing or is she waning did I lose my sight heaving moon half dark half heavy moon light pulling at this floundering soul one long or lonely night and somewhere peers an owl west or east at the speckled sky sitting naked up-on the roof lanky cat and I as from the north Read More
by Percy Bysshe Shelley The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the ocean, The winds of heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single, All things by a law divine In one another’s being mingle– Why not I with thine?
Rabindranath Tagore, timeless poetic meanderings after my own restless heart (forsooth) “Where roads are made I lose my way. In the wide water, in the blue sky there is no line of a track. The pathway is hidden by the birds’ wings, by the star-fires, by the flowers of the wayfaring seasons. And I ask Read More
– start at 22m15s . . . A little while, a moment of rest upon the wind, and another woman shall bear me. ~ The Prophet. Khalil Gibran Drifting through the formless void, darkness all around. there is a shimmer of sound
which move out over the things of the world. Perhaps I can never achieve the last, but that will be my attempt. I am circling around God, around the ancient tower, and I have been circling for a thousand years, and I still don’t know if I am a falcon, or a storm, or a Read More
by Mehdi Akhavan-e Salis (M. Omid) Holding its sky tightly in its arms, the cloud, wrapped in its cold, damp sheepskin. The garden of leaflessness, is alone, day and night, with its pure, forlorn silence. Its instrument the rain, its anthem the wind. Its clothe is the cloak of nakedness.
falling away into grace becoming enfolded in darkening wings of winter’s embrace, from the east she calls, i love you
by Yvor Winters I. IN WINTER Myself Pale mornings, and I rise. Still Morning Snow air–my fingers curl. Awakening New snow, O pine of dawn!
by Meghan O’Rourke You can only miss someone when they are present to you. The Isle of the Dead is both dark and light. Henry Miller told Anaïs Nin that the only real death is being dead while alive. The absent will only be absent when they are forgotten. Until then, absence is a lie, Read More
Inside this temple are mountains and rivers there are forests of oak, mountain lions and moss Seismic shifts and lightening bolts are inside innervating every silent thought