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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 |
| Orange eye squinting, we worship the Moon Orange eye squinting between branches trying to hold on reluctant to go promising to turn everything false gold before you swoon and fall behind your horizon Far from your zenith you keep your own council your flickering flame, your dying embers We worship the Moon, its gentle reflection, its calm meditation, how it doesn't burn while guiding us through the night. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.158.s] (21.juni.2021) |
| Good riddance The East Wind waves goodbye. You're old, you're feeble, you're no longer welcome. Your glow fades from green to yellow to golden dun. You no longer light the mountainside. It's the Solstice. Wiil you come back tomorrow? Will you dim as you wander south? Go. Bring us back the night and cloak of darkness. You'll be missed by many, but the East Wind is not your slave and the bonds that bind us will be shattered. Goodbye. The East Wind waves. Good riddance. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.157.s] (20.juni.2021) |
| O Fiery Ball from Hell Go hide behind those grey curtains, you fiery Ball from Hell. Good riddance. You have no shame for the Life you wither. Go thither... somewhere where they worship your flame. Perhaps Oregon. Moss covered, shrouded by dark pines. Just... don't torch them. Tonight you glow brilliant. But we all know your game. Across the galaxy your brethren burn with no shame. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.156.s] (19.juni.2021) |
| Complaints to the swallows You seek to fool us with your radiance, adding a golden glow to the thirsty hills, the glistening river's ripples, as if we're deaf to the rapid's roar. We will forgive you if you raise your voice in thunder. Storm on us rather than leave us to die in the dust. Oh... do what you must. You'll show back up at Dawn no matter how much we complain to the swallows... or the empty sky. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.155.s] (16.juni.2021) |
Keep your word Oh Wind, if only you'd cool my room instead of freezing me whilst I sit by the open window. Your clouds promise rain. For whom? I want no promises blown about by a careless breeze. Give me an answer. Keep your word. Or keep blowing eastward — where you may do some good. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.154.s] (15.juni.2021) |
| Kayakers surf All gone except the shredded rags in the north embroidered in peach. You're beyond my reach, as quiet as the cooling calm, as distant. Kayakers still surf waves as Twilight descends. No rush. Summer days stretch, doing their yoga for hours. It's still light enough on the river. Even the glow of the globe long set still lingers. Let them have their fun! Summer has just begun. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.153.s] (14.juni.2021) |
| Doing laundry at Sparkles Your head rises into the stratosphere, white haired and unruly. You turn grey at your base, a dark omen glowering. They tell me to ignore you. But I know your kind. You'll promise to go away then pommel us with hailstones. I never trust those who hold their heads so high. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.152] (13.juni.2021) 7 pm at Sparkle |
| I must say... you got rid of your acne until your friend hid behind the horizon tinting your blotches a golden yellow making Mt. Jumbo blush in peach while you hid your blemishes with a bank of grey to the west. Do what's best. May the soft night air clear your skin. May you dawn with a fresh face. May we all live to see it. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.151.s] (6.juni.2021) |
| Let them know it was never about them I look up at the blue globe in the MT sky, see your eyes and a golden ring around it. If you were calm skies and I was the earth, then they were the storms that came between us. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.150.s] (6.juni.2021) 4 lines 11/11 10/10 MT = empty or Montana ... you choose. |
| I told Sunset about you Sunset hid behind your clouds but I knew she was listening. I told her about how you lit up my days with the mere echo of your voice, your face fading over time until only your radiant smile remained. Perhaps what can't be said in this lifetime was forged in the past or will be revealed in the next. Only Dawn will know after this short night. Give her my love. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.149.s] (6.juni.2021) |
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