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 |
Daffodils march on and on through all my childhood dreams and a myriad of tulips bloom or so it seems; but here the smoke and chilies choke as durians stench the air. Oh, to be a youth again and debonair. |
my rashes fade from red to pink; my bruise turns into rainbows. All futures lie beyond these wounds the ones that I've survived. And smoke gives way to rain— tomorrow? And joy overcomes the pain and sorrow. |