Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
L'aura del campo 'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos' ♣ Federico García Lorca ♣ L'aura del campo. A breeze in the meadow. So it began the last day of Spring, 2005; on the 16th day of the month of Light of the year 162. This is a supplement to my daily journal written to a friend, my muse; notes I do not share. Here I will share what the breeze has whispered to me. PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS! I LV COMMENTS! On a practical note, in answer to your questions: IN MEMORIUM VerySara passed away November 12, 2005 Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings. More suggested links: These pictures rotate. Kåre Enga ~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop, The Fish |
Your way or the highway? I chose, and landed in Norway— fifty years later. I wakened to it: snow-on-vidda, my hair turning white. no way to deny the advance of age, the calming of rage, the Coming Home. Earlier 47 word version written today: Your way or the highway? I choose My Way and landed in Norway fifty years after I dreamt it. Now I wakened to it: the vidda snow capped, my hair turning white, no way to deny the advance of age, the calming of rage, the Coming Home. |
Smiles beguile you, make you feel welcome, enough to stay awhile (or forever); but, beware, their guile knows no bounds. So... go to Thailand. It's definitely worthwhile... but for a trial. This lifestyle may, or may not, not suit you. |