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 |
In the garden of my thoughts Flitting here and there, a rainbow glanced from corners of the eye, I am a hummingbird, an enigma — gone in a flash. And I am a worm, just trying to get from one side of the sidewalk to the other. A slug, a snail, a sloth. I'm the northern twilight taking it easy, reluctant to fade forever, lingering in your thoughts. Like the scarlet pimpernel, waiting to be plucked, too shy, too insignificant to toot its horn, will I wait until I wither? But — sometimes I'm fragrant, a night-blooming cactus, beckoning — come hither — to each and every moth. © 2024 Kåre Enga (6.september.2024) 20 lines |