| 5 years ago :: Jan 27, 2008 - 3:33PM #31 | |
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Silently a flower blooms,
In silence it falls away; Yet here now, at this moment, at this place, The world of the flower, the whole of the world is blooming. This is the talk of the flower, the truth of the blossom: The glory of eternal life is fully shining here. ~~Zenkei Shibayama.. |
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| 5 years ago :: Jan 27, 2008 - 3:29PM #32 | |
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Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take Towards the door we never opened Into the rose garden. ~~T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets |
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| 5 years ago :: Jan 27, 2008 - 8:51PM #33 | |
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"Love is the flower of life, and blossoms unexpectedly and without law, and must be plucked where it is found, and enjoyed for the brief hour of its duration."
D.H.Lawrence "We are, each of us angels with only one wing; and we can only fly by embracing one another." Luciano de Crescenzo |
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| 5 years ago :: Jan 27, 2008 - 8:51PM #34 | |
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"Love is the flower of life, and blossoms unexpectedly and without law, and must be plucked where it is found, and enjoyed for the brief hour of its duration."
D.H.Lawrence "We are, each of us angels with only one wing; and we can only fly by embracing one another." Luciano de Crescenzo |
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| 5 years ago :: Jan 28, 2008 - 1:21PM #35 | |
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Remember to be gentle with yourself and others. We are all children of chance and none can say why some fields will blossom while others lay brown beneath the August sun. Care for those around you. Look past your differences. Their dreams are no less than yours, their choices no more easily made. And give, give in any way you can, of whatever you possess. To give is to love. To withhold is to wither. Care less for your harvest than for how it is shared, and your life will have meaning and your heart will have peace.
~~Kent Nerburn |
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| 5 years ago :: Jan 28, 2008 - 10:30PM #36 | |
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It's all I have to bring today –
This, and my heart beside – This, and my heart, and all the fields – And all the meadows wide – Be sure you count – should I forget Some one the sum could tell – This, and my heart, and all the Bees Which in the Clover dwell. It's all I have to bring today by Emily Dickinson |
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| 5 years ago :: Jan 29, 2008 - 4:13AM #37 | |
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Young love is a flame, very pretty, often very hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. The love of the older and disciplined heart is as coals, deep burnning, unquenchable.-Henry Ward Beecher
Love bears all things, believes all things, endures all things. Love never ends...1 Corinthians 13:7, 8 Apparently there is nothing that cannot happen today-Mark Twain |
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| 5 years ago :: Jan 29, 2008 - 1:44PM #38 | |
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Winter came down to our home one night
Quietly pirouetting in on silvery-toed slippers of snow, And we, we were children once again. ~Bill Morgan, Jr. (It's been -20' with windchills to -30 here the past couple of days. Brrr! Winter!) |
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| 5 years ago :: Jan 29, 2008 - 6:48PM #39 | |
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Rumi Poems
With the Beloved's water of life, no illness remains In the Beloved's rose garden of union, no thorn remains. They say there is a window from one heart to another How can there be a window where no wall remains? Let the lover be disgraceful, crazy, absentminded. Someone sober will worry about things going badly. Let the lover be. The Freshness When it's cold and raining, you are more beautiful. And the snow brings me even closer to your lips. The inner secret, that which was never born, you are that freshness, and I am with you now. I can't explain the goings, or the comings. You enter suddenly, and I am nowhere again. Inside the majesty. (Hey Glenn, here's a warm thought: Spring is just around the corner, Canada must be gorgeous in Springtime) |
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| 5 years ago :: Jan 29, 2008 - 6:48PM #40 | |
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Rumi Poems
With the Beloved's water of life, no illness remains In the Beloved's rose garden of union, no thorn remains. They say there is a window from one heart to another How can there be a window where no wall remains? Let the lover be disgraceful, crazy, absentminded. Someone sober will worry about things going badly. Let the lover be. The Freshness When it's cold and raining, you are more beautiful. And the snow brings me even closer to your lips. The inner secret, that which was never born, you are that freshness, and I am with you now. I can't explain the goings, or the comings. You enter suddenly, and I am nowhere again. Inside the majesty. (Hey Glenn, here's a warm thought: Spring is just around the corner, Canada must be gorgeous in Springtime) |
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