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 |
There comes a hardening to the innocent— a sharpening— before last breath —as eyes that have seen too much— cloud over. Shrieks of growing up silence into mist and myth —remembered as innocence— untouched by time. But touched they were— by soft rain— hard hands— the tear of skin— the healing scab. The moving away from innocence —that never was— that never will be again. © Kåre Enga [11.august.2016] Missoula |