Monday, August 15, 2016

Silence will carry your voice like the nest that holds the sleeping birds. –Rabindranath Tagore


Sit quietly, and listen for a voice that will say: “Be more silent.” 

Die and be quiet. 

Quietness is the surest sign that you’ve died. 

Your old life was a frantic running from silence. 
Move outside the tangle of fear-thinking. 

Live in silence.



Sunday, August 7, 2016

you know quite well


You know quite well, deep within you,

that there is only a single magic,
a single power, a single salvation...

and that is called loving.

–Herman Hesse


Tuesday, August 2, 2016

small bird on fire


It was passed from one bird to another,
the whole gift of the day.
The day went from flute to flute,
went dressed in vegetation,
in flights which opened a tunnel
through which the wind would pass
to where birds were breaking open
the dense blue air -
and there, night came in.
When I returned from so many journeys,
I stayed suspended and green
between sun and geography -
I saw how wings worked,
how perfumes are transmitted
by feathery telegraph,
and from above I saw the path,
the springs and the roof tiles,
the fishermen at their trades,
the trousers of the foam;
I saw it all from my green sky.
I had no more alphabet
than the swallows in their courses,
the tiny, shining water
of the small bird on fire
which dances out of the pollen.

Pablo Neruda