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 |
When Winter came... Sun still shone when I crossed that bridge and the river still flowed beneath it. Grey gloom on the horizon could not stop me. The flag hung limp and the glint of rapids winked back at expectant skies. I don't deny that I miss you. But these moments move me like your radiant smile, soothe like your calming voice. When I cross that bridge that cannot be recrossed. I pray you'll be urging me onward, lighting the way. crossing a bridge no sight of the other side © Kåre Enga [27.noviembre.2016] |