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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 |
| Junk I take my broken pieces reattach them to myself to hide those names you call me, erase those labels you use to define me. I defy your jealousy and hatred, heal the inner hurt, hide it where no one looks, and remind you — God don't make junk. KE. (31.desember.2023) 9 lines Edited and posted in
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| Teeth of a dog When I lie there dead do not look at my rotting teeth. Once... I was young with a mouth full of ivory, smiling at the world that did not smile on me. Do not notice the wrinkles or the bloating flesh. Forget the hair that falls out like a leaf that's spent. Look at me with dignity like I looked at others. Remember me petting an eager dog, wagging its tail, and hoping for love. Witness how the ornery cat came to me in time. Patience my friend, love and patience win. Reminisce how I stopped to watch the butterfly escaping the myna bird's beak. Or how each orchid shared its glory for a week even when no one but me stopped by. When I lie there dead, cover my ugliness if you must, until my body returns to dust; know that my soul has fled. Kare Enga [180.xxx] (30.desember.2023) 30 lines Edited and posted as "Teeth of a dog"  for "Share Your Faith" Note: This is based on what 'Abdu'l Baha wrote in a letter in 1913. It is quite familiar to Baha'is as a caution to look at the good qualities in others. "...you enquire about the source of a story concerning Christ that was told by 'Abdu'l-Bahá. Your message was subsequently referred to the Research Department, which has indicated that the narrative which describes Christ's "sin-covering gaze" when He encountered "the dead body of a dog", is published in "Selections from the Writings of 'Abdu'l-Bahá". Although the story is not part of Christian tradition, nor does it appear in the Qur'án, the Research Department advises that its source can be traced to Islamic traditions as it occurs frequently in Muslim literature." https://bahaiforums.com/t/teeth-of-the-dog.2458/ |
| This is not winter: pink orchids in bloom, heat wilting tall trees, no breeze, just dry leaves. The child we once were remembers white glare, ice, bone numbing cold. Behold, we are old. KE (16.desember.2023) |
| Rice fields on the way to Sisaket Stretching farther than I can see, nothing but empty fields, puddles, spare trees. The rice fields have been harvested. Emerald puddles glisten under clear skies, no smoke in sight. As water buffalo graze I lounge in my seat, gaze out the window. I sit still as the world flies by. as my words slow down, no longer able to keep up. As I doze, they stumble between the stubble, among memories of corn, wheat and beans; but, when I wake up, only rice-straw bundles stare back at me. © Copyright 2023 Kåre Enga (10.desember.2024) 12 lines |
| "Bittersweet, for the most part bitter" Off to Hat Yai to sing karaoke, visit the markets, the babes of the night. Bitter lips and ripened oranges. Bittersweet, for the most part bitter. Off to Malaysia to stay in a hostel, explore the city, inhale duck rice, and fish satay by the bay. Bittersweet, for the most part bitter. Return to Thailand, visa problems, nine hour train ride, arrive, Pan not home. No one to hug, sleep alone. Bittersweet, for the most part bitter. © Copyright 2023 Kåre Enga (2.desember.2023) |
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