Thursday, 19 April 2012
Sunday, 15 April 2012
Nightingale's voice
Mind, Heart, Spirit.
Mind
Every colour, every season observed I give reason and voice to. I proclaim my conclusions, and wonder. The rainbow colours of the Earth, and the philosophies of other voices. I broaden my understanding of what is possible, and my intellect sings. My learning is infinite, more endless than the boundaries of the universe. To grow in understanding forever; to fulfil my potential for becoming. And always, to question, to seek enlightenment in the unexpected places of life and beyond. My Mind is always questing, on a voyage to the epic places of discovery.
Spirit
A plane never opened wings with the freedom of a bird. So my Spirit, reflects the nightingale. Always about to fly, to the vast mystery of sky within soul. My Spirit has no end and no beginning. Born out of eternity, to the cloudless sky with a thousand morning stars. Fly anywhere and everywhere, in a moment with no measure. Hover over deserts and oceans, and perch on mountain summits. Respire with the phases of the grass and the forest. Unfurl with the skyward branch, and whisper with the breeze over a summer landscape. My Spirit is limitless in a spectrum of truth.
Heart
Emotion is found in the contemplation of compassionate life, and love; my heart seeks her own expression of what she finds. She has no cage. She gives because her song is of giving. And she loves because her gift is her loving. She can break forever, but her breaking is into hope, and her tears fall towards a more infinite form of giving. She keeps intuition, trust, faith; she is the pride of my Mind and my Spirit. She is the essence of the nectar in a flower and a young tree, the cadence of birdsong, the always shattering sparkle on the water of a travelling brook. My mind took flight, and my spirit soared, when my heart found her wings.
Once, I imagined I was on a river bank, watching the water current flow towards its immense destination and source of ocean. Then I saw, across the river, my Heart, waiting in the shimmering light. I wanted to follow, but wondered what lay beyond, over the river, on the unfamiliar bank. I knew I must make the journey, and discover other miracles to contemplate. And my Heart, in her courage, had journeyed before me.
Love Thee
Maksim Mrvica Plays Chopin Nocturne in D-flat Op.27 No.2 - YouTube
On the soft sandy beach, played a four-year old boy, filling his bucket with sand. With a serious expression on his face hit his hands in the sand, pushed, pulled over and empty cans, always disappointed that so little of sand fell out of his clenched fist. What he is determined he caught and pressed harder, to be more sand to seep between the fingers, rather than it arrived in the bucket. It would not help him all the accumulated anger that never occurred to turn the palms to shovel, so the open palm managed to insert much more sand than the clenched fist. Theorem which occurred this child, the lesson of life. Life is like sand. Much more it fits on the open palm, rather than the fist. When you want to have a narrow clutching him, and with the egoistic certainty to keep embracing him, then he just collapsed from a solid grip, and arm remain eerily empty. Just when life receive with open arms and wearing his wealth in the hands of open storage of eternity, can be considered to have true wealth. If you're so gave their lives, he secured himself more offspring than there are sands on the seashore.