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 |
A day too soon Loons call before twilight shimmers across lakes as they land, move away from where we stand, watching. White pines cloak the darkness within them, watchmen rising from the root of the earth, cupping this puddle of gleam and ripple. What lies beneath jumps for a midge, an unwary wanderer. In a long descent from silver to onyx, ebony shadows circle. What gathered at the edge now fades towards the middle and night releases last light to join the moon sinking in the west. It is best to remember this stillness, the laugh of the loon, pine scent wafting over water, this day before you'll die, Zmitri, a day too soon. © Kåre Enga (18.july.2017) Lexi#8 [174.183.zm] |