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Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
Size: 1,968 Entries
Created: June 20th, 2005 at 10:58am
Modified: April 9th, 2024 at 7:42am
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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:
I have goals of writing a poetic sketch every day. I have over 5,000. I attempt to edit and post one every time I blog. I may include the weather because it is very grounding. It is tempting to live life in the head, and equally dangerous. I try to connect with the people I live with as well as family and friends who live elsewhere. I attempt to notice the beauty of nature around me and note that here. I jot down what others say! People are much funnier than I am and they give me ideas. I pay tribute to those who have helped me get this far. My days and months are according to the Bahá'í year. Each is an attribute of God: Bahá - Splendor, Jalál - Glory, Jamál - Beauty, 'Azamat - Grandeur, Núr - Light, Rahmat - Mercy, Kalimát - Words, Kamál - Perfection, Asmá' - Names, 'Izzat - Might, Mashíyyat - Will, 'Ilm - Knowledge, Qudrat - Power, Qawl - Speech, Masá'il - Questions, Sharaf - Honor, Sultán - Sovereignty, Mulk - Dominion, 'Alá' - Loftiness. |
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
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Two April fools
Warmth in the valley, snow on the peaks, mud in between.
Trails led over last year's depressions, past ponderosa,
patches of green. I didn't mean to step on your toe.
But you forgave me then and a thousand times since.
Roads don't always have a destination or dead ends.
We managed getting lost, the anxiety of intersections.
What direction brought us here? Our trip began
with one kiss that led to another that led to another.
And here I stand, deciding which way to continue,
as if any way but you ever mattered.
© Kåre Enga [176.15] (1.april.2019)
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