MAY THE SUN BRING YOU NEW ENERGIES BY DAY.
MAY THE MOON SOFTLY RESTORE YOU BY NIGHT.
MAY THE RAIN WASH AWAY ANY WORRIES YOU MAY HAVE,
AND THE BREEZE BLOW NEW STRENGTH INTO YOUR BEING, AND THEN, ALL THE DAYS OF YOU LIFE, MAY YOU WALK GENTLY THROUGH THE WORLD ,AND KNOW ITS BEAUTY AND YOURS
Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass, get out and dance in the rain
Sometimes life sucks,times its quite simply beautiful, sometimes silence is golden, words arent enough or just get in the way.Sometimes I get nostalgic and take journeys in the quiet company of my heart the music taking me wherever.Sometimes I laugh,times I cry and then I smile again. Its all still unfolding, slowly and beautifully at its own pace..life:)
I have spread my dreams under your feet, tread softly for you tread on my dreams
The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was... Lovers dont finally meet somewhere They are in each other all along..
JELALUDDIN RUMI.......
It is said that within the soul of every woman can be found the wildness of the wolf, the intelligence, the knowing of the seasons, the belonging to ones pack
Young and innocent, playful and trusting, born into a world where one must learn to survive. I hear the call of my soul and follow, for there lie my true loves and nature. Head up and sniffing the air, I rise, shake the dust from my fur and howl to a full and glorious moon
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And leaving,
she found the one that had been missing for so long,
The not good enough,
found her self.
And in finding herself,
that one who had been missing for so long,
she has discovered,
that she is indeed
more than good enough.
No longer hearing your words,
for she listens to the song of her own soul
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Sometimes people get lost.
Sometimes they leave
the nothingness;
that has no meaning.
Without a word, they rise
to follow their soul,
for fear that that too may
fall silent to the ear.
Then closing the door,
without backward glance.
They're gone
Wednesday, 17 October 2007
Who can say how life will unfold when the rose petals fall to the ground, filling the air still with the sweetest of perfume.
The fragrance of those dreams we carelessly tread upon.
Laying down the pen, she also laid down her hopes and dreams, for in her heart she knew, she could no longer fool herself that she was capable of writing the fairytale of love turned around.. not with her co-author...she had grown up.
No more, turning one more page believing that this time the tale would have a happy ending for she having examined the book closely, realised all the chapters thus far had followed the same theme...the dream turned to drama
Ripping out the pages that brought value and meaning to her life, she picks up her pen and closes the cover, the book lies somewhere, she knows not where.
She hears one still writes there, a tale of woe, of love abandoned.. the pages flutter in the wind, to the best of her knowledge, left unread
The book is now his and his alone, for with her pen she writes a new tale where words like love, respect, courage, faith, togetherness,freedom,security above all happiness and balance have found their home.
Saturday, 22 September 2007
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"And when you speak to me of love" she said
let your talk build walls
walls that protect, built on solid foundations
of trust, respect and understanding
walls where our children
have no fear of turning corners
and feel free to run and explore
walls that encase warmth and welcome
yet hold no captives
If your talk differs then
best we fall silent
and speak of love no more
Kalhil Gibran
And a woman spoke, saying, "Tell us of Pain."
And he said:
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.
Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity:
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.
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Saturday, 15 September 2007
"I hold the key of power" he taunted, he knew her weakness, her wound.
Looking at the key in his hand, at him with sad eyes, a sadness of heart for one who appeared so weak and powerless before her.
She remembered the key, the rust that fell as she opened the door so many years ago, yet that was past, she knew this beyond a doubt. Held gently within her hand was a key she had found in that room.
She had explored there, examined, reassessed her place in this world and smiling she remembered the healing that took place within that space then, turning in peace, walked away with the key to her future.
A woman leaving that space holding the hand of the small child; merging into one as they walk through the door.
Edna St. Vincent Millay - Bluebeard
This door you might not open, and you did;
So enter now, and see for what slight thing
You are betrayed... Here is no treasure hid,
No cauldron, no clear crystal mirroring
The sought-for truth, no heads of women slain
For greed like yours, no writhings of distress,
But only what you see... Look yet again—
An empty room, cobwebbed and comfortless.
Yet this alone out of my life I kept
Unto myself, lest any know me quite;
And you did so profane me when you crept
Unto the threshold of this room to-night
That I must never more behold your face.
This now is yours. I seek another place.
"You keep it" She smiled,for she knew she had no need for it any longer
'I would be different' he told her,
hiding his guilt...
'If only I had a loving wife'.
Now I understand
what you tried to say to me
For you could not love me
you did not know how
and when no hope what left inside
on that starry, starry night
I took my life as lovers often do
and found a space where I could love me
and left you to find
Your IF ONLY......
But still my love was true
Thankyou S :)
The usual things in your life
wont make you miss them
Only the hurting memories,
or those which make you smile
There are some people who stay in history,
our lifes history
And others who we dont even
remember hearing their name
It are the emotions that bring life
to the suadade that I bring in me
Those I had with you,
and Ive just lost
Their are days that leave marks
in your soul and in our life
And the one that you've left me
I cannot forget
The rain felt in my face
frozen and tired
The streets that the city had
Ive went along through them
Oh my young lost city girl cry
I screamed to the city
That the fire of love
Under the rain,
died moments ago
The rain listened and silenced
my secret to the city
and there she knocks on the window glass
Bringing with her the saudade
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25 years later she realised
No matter how hard she tried to fit the pieces together
The puzzle didnt match the picture on the box
Ask her if she felt she had wasted time
"No", she will softly sigh,
"Not I"
"Ask another passing by"
One who carries an empty box