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 LV 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 |
Swinging on her star Smoke wafts through the congested void between a million separate worlds. A little girl feels their pull and cannot sleep. Awake, she jumps right up and skips right down to her swing to gaze at skies aglow with her best friends' moons. Their spheres sing celestial lullabies until she yawns when guided by her attic's light she climbs back home to bed. K Enga (17.june.2017) [174.140] /30:16.1/ |
Angels at the Masquerade Behind the mask another mask outer layers that obscure the inner form protect the inner being fool us into thinking we have seen reality just what they wants us to see not the frail angels posing as some fearful fighter at the masquerade © Kåre Enga (17.june.2017.) [139] /30:16.2/ |