Retreat

Barefoot on the sand where the sea freezes before the sky. Barefoot before the karmic debt, close to the end of the land, too far yet from the line she will soon walk out of the frame even as the setting sun shines on her nape. Who is telling her about her steps; and are these the steps to God? Every instant of joy is a moment of epiphany. Barefoot on the sand, you feel chilled in the bones, and there beneath your feet, you feel something stirring. It's good to hear from those you have missed that there is a bond, a connection with the heaven and the earth. Image Courtesy + Tanya Dimitrova Thank you Tanya for the image Originally shared by Tanya Dimitrova - 2 comment s

 TARA And one day the mountain erupted, A magnificence, but sad. The mountain broke all the vows of forbearance, compassion, because the mountain could not help. For days on end the sorrow flowed in rivers of fire liquefied . On the day when the mountain cooled two tears fell. Massive drops of green and blue, the mountain's delight. And thus was Tara born, the green eye told her what to do, how to heal and let a thousand seeds come to life and make the earth green and the blue eye told her how to love; simply watch and love. Sushama Karnik (c)

A RANDOM LEAF A walk through the corridors of prayer halls, crossing the beams of light and shades, steep ascents over hills and dales, through mists and blinding rains, my journeys have brought me a glimpse of the void within. The rain and the mists slide over the hills and the shades of grey. The opulence of the rain and the insistence of the green, that I must stay a little longer to speak, to hold a dialogue with the one who listens whenever I have the need. A surge of empathy draws, and I borrow a leaf from the Great Tree of life; I scribble my thoughts and let the leaf float in the hope that someday, somewhere in times of grief, this leaf may reach randomly some heart in need. SUSHAMA KARNIK Apr 11, 2018 Thanks for the image: + Milan Lakić Originally shared by Milan Lakić Astrid Schultz. White PhotographySchulzDark

The night moves a little to the east. The night sounds cease one by one. The sun with a golden brush comes to clean the palette of sounds. Love from whatever source, when it comes, the knots at the heart come undone. A gold coin clanging at the heart of the night, is love remembered when the night sounds cease; a tiny imprint left on the soul. Your hands can feel the way to reach me with their living touch, extended trembling into the restless flame of day; love remembered, a hieroglyph in a sacred cave. Sushama Karnik Aug20, 2017 Thanks to + Milan Lakić for the image Originally shared by Milan Lakić - 6 comments Oil painting by Didier Lourenço (2013)

How often we sat after the morning tea, but never after dinner, to talk about the things that mattered: some mattered to me, some to you, but rarely did we talk about the mutual needs. Often I was seized by the need to talk about the dreams and the messages that cascaded over me. Most people were interested to find out more but I suspected that you always knew what I knew and you knew always something more, and those, I was afraid, you would not share. The difference between you and me was that I would not take anything unless it was delivered by a Master Poet, and for you it had to come from the Master Spirit, sharp like the blade of the knife. I thought of you as a man in a perpetual hurry. No doubt about that; you were in a hurry, but you never did anything in a haste. Energy; life is energy, and you did not want to see it wasted; that was the cause of the hurry. And you had no fear of death. Life is endless; we never die. That was what you wanted me...