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 |
Bronze The pull of two suns that burn us, the tides that part us, force us together. Two souls as distinct as proton and electrons becoming one again. Your copper, my tin, forging a blade of bronze that slices skies throughout the galaxies, divides eternity into dark and light, separates night from day... like a yolk reluctant to lose hold of its albumen. But not gentle, never gentle. We fry in the glare of two suns becoming one, condensed into the nothingness of a black-hole, a pinpoint that can only explode into the joy of everything. © Kåre Enga [27.november.2016] |