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 |    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 L  V 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 |
| June 0 ... 2021 till June 0 2022. I will need to keep my prompts in this ancient p-log for
bitem:2222203 52 of them in 52 weeks. Catch-ups allowed. A challenge, not a contest per se. 1. "PPC#1 Ursa-June [116]"  2. "PPC#2 When a moment lasts a lifetime [146]" 3. 4. 5. ... |
| It's time to say goodbye i Soon Lamps will cast their Light announcing that it's time to head Home. Night gathers in the East and races to catch up with the run-away Sun. We talk until we cannot see the white Thread from the Dark. It's time to say goodbye until the Morn. ii It's time to say goodbye until the Morn. Will Dawn ever come? Sit with me as the Moon rises to cast our Shadows, glows to show us the right Way forward... if not home. iii Chill enters my bones but the warmth of your Embrace will linger after you're gone. Go now before the Nightengale is hushed by the Owl. Go before the Lamplights gutter, before our Joy is crushed by those who envy us. Go, and travel safe. Take this candle, to guide you to the coming Dawn. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.127] (27.mai.2021) |
| 9:09 There's a certain symmetry in golden wisps that criss cross the northwest, the flag waving goodbye to the day, the clouds, the rains, goodbye to the river racing towards the sunset. As Twilight gathers her skirts and Night his lanterns. Goodbye. As air cools and summer sky darkens. Goodbye. As the golden globe seeks other venues, bringing them dawn. Goodbye. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.126.s] (26.mai.2021) Note: sunset comes late in Western Montana. |
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