You've been in my thoughts this holiday season. I hope the sorrow and sadness can be replaced with warm, sweet memories and time spent with your family.
I recently heard a bit of trivia about poinsettias that I didn't know. Did you know that all poinsettias have yellow flowers? Apparently the actual flower is that yellow part in the center. The red or white parts are leaves.
JC- Good fact. I will go look at mine more closely now. Just tuning in to say the picture is beautifully shot. I have a few pics of the baby squirrels I rehab at home who are getting their morning sunbath while they sleep in a fleece filled cereal bowl. The light coming in at an angle like you have on the poinsettia really makes the picture look frame-able. The sun on these yellow-white poinsettias just make it look more luminous. Merry Christmas!
Assailed by afflictions, we discover dharma and find the way to liberation. Thank you, evil forces!
When sorrows invade the mind, we discover dharma and find lasting happiness. Thank you, sorrows!
Through harm caused by spirits we discover dharma and find fearlessness. Thank you, ghosts and demons!
Through people's hate we discover dharma and find benefits and happiness. Thank you, those who hate us!
Through cruel adversity, we discover dharma and find the unchanging way. Thank you, adversity!
Through being impelled to by others, we discover dharma and find the essential meaning. Thank you, all who drive us on!
We dedicate our merit to you all, to repay your kindness.
— Gyalwa Longchenpa
Watering Tulasi
Durga (Uma)
Una
Lord Narasimha
Lucy
Who Says Words With My Mouth?
All day I think about it, then at night I say it. Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing? I have no idea. My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that, and I intend to end up there.
This drunkenness began in some other tavern. When I get back around to that place, I'll be completely sober. Meanwhile, I'm like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary. The day is coming when I fly off, but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice? Who says words with my mouth?
Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul? I cannot stop asking. If I could taste one sip of an answer, I could break out of this prison for drunks. I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way. Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.
This poetry, I never know what I'm going to say. I don't plan it. When I'm outside the saying of it, I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.
— Rumi
Filling up my shelves...
"It is a face seen once and lost forever in a crowd, an eye that looked, a face that smiled and vanished on a passing train, it is a prescience of snow upon a certain night, the laughter of a woman in a summer street long years ago, it is the memory of a single moon seen at the pines' dark edge in old october — and all of our lives are written in the twisting of a leaf upon the bough, a door that opened, and a stone." — Thomas Wolf
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FAITH
I want to write about faith, about the way the moon rises over cold snow, night after night, faithful even as it fades from fullness, slowly becoming that last curving and impossible sliver of light before the final darkness.
But I have no faith myself I refuse it even the smallest entry.
Let this then, my small poem, like a new moon, slender and barely open, be the first prayer that opens me to faith.
— David Whyte
“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.” — Dr. Seuss
The Journey
One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice-- though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles. "Mend my life!" each voice cried. But you didn't stop. You knew what you had to do, though the wind pried with its stiff fingers at the very foundations, though their melancholy was terrible. It was already late enough, and a wild night, and the road full of fallen branches and stones. But little by little, as you left their voices behind, the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own, that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper into the world, determined to do the only thing you could do-- determined to save the only life you could save.
7 comments:
Merry Christmas M. Both your blog and your friendship are greatly appreciated. As life moves forward with both sadness and grace, here's to 2010.....
Merry Christmas...
Love your blog and look forward to more in the New Year....
Best,
Kary
You've been in my thoughts this holiday season. I hope the sorrow and sadness can be replaced with warm, sweet memories and time spent with your family.
Wishing you a Christmas full of wonder and hope.
hope you have a wonderful time in NYC! best wishes for a holiday season of warmth and pleasure with quiet moments of reflection and joy.
I recently heard a bit of trivia about poinsettias that I didn't know. Did you know that all poinsettias have yellow flowers? Apparently the actual flower is that yellow part in the center. The red or white parts are leaves.
JC- Good fact. I will go look at mine more closely now. Just tuning in to say the picture is beautifully shot. I have a few pics of the baby squirrels I rehab at home who are getting their morning sunbath while they sleep in a fleece filled cereal bowl. The light coming in at an angle like you have on the poinsettia really makes the picture look frame-able. The sun on these yellow-white poinsettias just make it look more luminous. Merry Christmas!
Lovely photo of the poinsettias...like the color of eggnog.
May you find joy this season...
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