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 |
It will not snow today, unless it snows in Hell. Nor will I burn for you under your spell I cannot live with lies, but only for myself. Time for me to fly and leave this mortal shelf. I've sought your cave for shelter but found it empty, cold; yet, thought that you were better than me alone, It's time for me to search now. Hope stays somewhere near where spring and autumn rule, but never here. It's not that I don't love you but whether you love me. Do you think that I'm some fool? I set you free to happily find another, to somehow stay alive. I can only send you love that you may thrive. © Kåre Enga [181.3] (1.april.2024) |