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Showing posts from June, 2020

Sky, Like A MIRROR,...

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Sky, like a mirror. cracked, and in the light the path was seen. The bird ascended to ride the storm. The quiet sky made way for the rain and then was harmony and solace for all. Sushama Karnik (c) 25 June 2020 Thanks for the image:  @Night passage Night passage Night passage Night passage Timeline 3 days ago

The sound of the ebbing tide

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The sound of the ebbing tide,  the landscapes and seascapes merge in the mind.  Stand in silence with a bated breath,  before the waves break on the shore.  Tides ebb to rise again with a different sound  though the sea is always the same. Sushama Karnik Image: Night Passage

You Are Never Alone

Saffron crushed between your palms; the mystique of vineyard all around, the garments smell of the rain-soaked soil, and in you hair, the wisps of smoke of the incense that burnt all night. The wind-swept trees huddled together as the storm howled and blew out the lamp. It was a night without the moon. But a single star shone all along; brighter than the crest of the moon and lighter than the step of a child learning to walk. Older than the echo in the cave, your words sounded on that night to me. The grave tones warned, Storms greater than what you see tonight have been witnessed by the humankind. Put thy little lamp under a shield and chant the magic of the memory of my name; I am more than the name; I am the shield; absorb this knowledge into your dreams, and as you walk the path you will know you are never alone. 17 Sept. 2015. Shared publicly • View activity

From the MeWe page of Domiku Aldari

o that nobody can forget how beautiful it would be if, for every sea that awaits us, there was a river for us. And someone a father, a love, someone capable of taking us by the hand and of finding that river, imagining it, inventing it and resting on its current, with the lightness of a single word, goodbye. This really would be wonderful. Life, any life would be sweet. And things wouldn't hurt, but they would get closer carried by the current, you could first touch them and then touch them and only at the end be touched. Getting hurt, too. Morime. It does not matter. But everything would be, finally human. The imagination of someone would be enough a father, a love, someone. * He would know how to invent a road, here, in the midst of this silence, in this land that does not want to speak. Clement road, and beautiful. A road from here to the sea. ~ a.b