The Mysteries ~ Rumi on Flickr.
“God writes spiritual Mysteries on our heart,
where they wait silently for discovery.” ~ Rumi
Orchid on Flickr.
the temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers. ~ Basho
The gate of Heaven is everywhere. ~ Thomas Merton on Flickr.
Sunlight Is Painting ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne on Flickr.
Walls and Flowers on Flickr.
“My walls outside must have some flowers,
My walls within must have some books;
A house that’s small; a garden large,
And in it leafy nooks.”
~ William Henry Davie
Hope is knowing that Spring is coming soon on Flickr.
Hope Is Knowing That Spring is Coming Soon: It lights up my life: the hope of Spring after a long, hard winter.
Life was as colorful as a neon carnival when my Uncle Howard was here. With him, there was always a laugh to be found no matter how much crap life dealt out to him. And life dealt him more than his share. When I’m having trouble finding the lights, I think of what he might have to say about any particular thing standing in my way. I hear his voice belting out a favorite show tune or I remember the time he got into a spat with another old guy at a grocery store who’d told Howard to “kiss his ass.” Howard told him to mark a spot, he was “all ass.”
Hey - I just saw the colored lights come on ….. :)
“In Silence there is eloquence. Stop weaving and see how the pattern improves.” ~ Rumi
“They came to tell your faults to me, / They named them over one by one; / I laughed aloud when they were done, / I knew them all so well before, / Oh, they were blind, too blind to see / Your faults had made me love you more.” ~ Sara Teasdale
“Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.” ~ Leonardo da Vinci
Where you invest your love, you invest your life.♥♥
Love After Love by Derek Walcott
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
My soul is impatient with itself, as with a bothersome child; its restlessness keeps growing and is forever the same. Everything interests me, but nothing holds me. I attend to everything, dreaming all the while. .. I’m two, and both keep their distance — Siamese twins that aren’t attached.”
―― Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet ― ― —
“The morning wind forever blows, the poem of creation is uninterrupted; but few are the ears that hear it.” ~ Henry David Thoreau