Things about me.
I think when I sleep.
ALL BEAUTY in the world is either a memory of Paradise or a prophecy of the transfigured world. ~ Nicholas Berdyaev, The Divine and the Human
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Saturday, February 07, 2009
Sunday, February 01, 2009
Two
Like the two banks of a river, ever so close and ever so distant- they can never be together- separated by the waters;
They journey like the train tracks, staying close and yet apart;
Like the sun and the moon, like a day and a night...
Like that mountain that tries to reach the sky...
Like that fish without the ocean...
Like the winter without the snow...
Like the tree without it's leafs...
Like a pond without a frog...
Like a field without its flower...
Like a mother without her child...
Like the desert without the sand...
Like a nomad without his horse,
Like a wanderer without his staff,
Like a poet without his words,
Their worlds...
They journey like the train tracks, staying close and yet apart;
Like the sun and the moon, like a day and a night...
Like that mountain that tries to reach the sky...
Like that fish without the ocean...
Like the winter without the snow...
Like the tree without it's leafs...
Like a pond without a frog...
Like a field without its flower...
Like a mother without her child...
Like the desert without the sand...
Like a nomad without his horse,
Like a wanderer without his staff,
Like a poet without his words,
Their worlds...
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