Showing posts with label choose this: beauty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label choose this: beauty. Show all posts
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Native Americans view all life as sacred.
© 2009 Peace Through Kindness * text Heather Havey
May your life be filled with joy...
http://www.peacethroughkindness.com/
May your life be filled with joy...
http://www.peacethroughkindness.com/
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Hafiz, "It is Unanimous"
IT IS UNANIMOUS
Hafiz
It is unanimous where I come from.
Everyone agrees on one thing:
It’s no fun
When God is not near.
All are hunters.
The wise man learns the Friend’s weaknesses
And sets a clever trap
Listen,
The Beloved has agreed to play a game
Called
Love.
Our sun sat in the sky
Way before this earth was born
Waiting to caress a billion faces.
Hafiz encourages all art.
For at its height it brings Light near
To us.
The wise man learns what draws God
Near.
It is the beauty of compassion
In your heart.
Written by the 13th century Persian poet, Hafiz.
Hafiz
It is unanimous where I come from.
Everyone agrees on one thing:
It’s no fun
When God is not near.
All are hunters.
The wise man learns the Friend’s weaknesses
And sets a clever trap
Listen,
The Beloved has agreed to play a game
Called
Love.
Our sun sat in the sky
Way before this earth was born
Waiting to caress a billion faces.
Hafiz encourages all art.
For at its height it brings Light near
To us.
The wise man learns what draws God
Near.
It is the beauty of compassion
In your heart.
Written by the 13th century Persian poet, Hafiz.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
May my heart always be open
May my heart always be open
by e.e. cummings
may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old
may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it's sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young
and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there's never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile.
~ ee cummings, E.E. Cummings: Complete Poems 1904-1962
by e.e. cummings
may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old
may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it's sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young
and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there's never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile.
~ ee cummings, E.E. Cummings: Complete Poems 1904-1962
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Is this sweet babe
The bright crescent moon, or the charming flower of the lotus,
The honey in a flower, or the lustre of the full moon,
A pure coral gem, or the pleasant chatter of parrots,
A dancing peacock, or a sweet singing bird,
A bounding young deer, or a bright shining swan,
A treasure from God, or the pet parrot in the hands of Iswari
The tender leaf of the Kalpa tree, or the fruit of my tree of fortune,
A golden casket to enclose the jewel of my love,
Nectar in my sight, or a light to dispel darkness,
The seed of my climbing fame, or a never fading bright pearl,
The brilliance of the sun to dispel all gloom of misery,
The Vedas in a casket, or the melodious Veena (Musical instrument) ,
The lovely blossom put forth by the stout branch of my tree of enjoyment,
A cluster of pichaka buds, or a sugar-candy sweet on the tongue,
The fragrance of musk, the best of all good,
The breeze laden with the scent of flowers, or the essence of purest Gold,
A bowl of fresh milk, or the sweetest smelling rose-water,
The field of all virtue, or an abode of all duty,
A cup of thirst quenching cold water, or a sheltering shade,
A never-falling Mallika flower or my own stored up wealth,
The auspicious object of my gaze, or my most precious jewel,
A stream of virtuous beauty, or an image of the youthful Krishna,
The bright forehead mark of the Goddess Lakshmi,
Or, by the mercy Padmanabha, Is it the source of my future happiness,
Is it, in this beautiful form, an Avatar of Krishna himself?
~a lullaby by Irayimman Thampi circa 18th century, written in the language of Malayalam for infant Swati Tirunal, later became the Maharaja of Travancore. Even now, it is the most popular lullaby in Malayalam. This lullaby is translated by some great soul, my salutations to Him.
The bright crescent moon, or the charming flower of the lotus,
The honey in a flower, or the lustre of the full moon,
A pure coral gem, or the pleasant chatter of parrots,
A dancing peacock, or a sweet singing bird,
A bounding young deer, or a bright shining swan,
A treasure from God, or the pet parrot in the hands of Iswari
The tender leaf of the Kalpa tree, or the fruit of my tree of fortune,
A golden casket to enclose the jewel of my love,
Nectar in my sight, or a light to dispel darkness,
The seed of my climbing fame, or a never fading bright pearl,
The brilliance of the sun to dispel all gloom of misery,
The Vedas in a casket, or the melodious Veena (Musical instrument) ,
The lovely blossom put forth by the stout branch of my tree of enjoyment,
A cluster of pichaka buds, or a sugar-candy sweet on the tongue,
The fragrance of musk, the best of all good,
The breeze laden with the scent of flowers, or the essence of purest Gold,
A bowl of fresh milk, or the sweetest smelling rose-water,
The field of all virtue, or an abode of all duty,
A cup of thirst quenching cold water, or a sheltering shade,
A never-falling Mallika flower or my own stored up wealth,
The auspicious object of my gaze, or my most precious jewel,
A stream of virtuous beauty, or an image of the youthful Krishna,
The bright forehead mark of the Goddess Lakshmi,
Or, by the mercy Padmanabha, Is it the source of my future happiness,
Is it, in this beautiful form, an Avatar of Krishna himself?
~a lullaby by Irayimman Thampi circa 18th century, written in the language of Malayalam for infant Swati Tirunal, later became the Maharaja of Travancore. Even now, it is the most popular lullaby in Malayalam. This lullaby is translated by some great soul, my salutations to Him.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Amidst the storm, the steel gray sky swirling with rain, I experience a moment of breathlessness. It is not fear. That is a sensation that I abandoned miles back. This is understanding. The magnitude, the strength all comes to my brain at once, and it is astounding. In the next half second, I am pulled forward in a strange break of gravity, and just as quickly, swept back. I let go, and let the warmth and light and love surround me, being drawn into my every pore. Despite this, there is not enough. With no regard to self-preservation, I drift down and out, deeper and farther. Here, I am immersed in light, and can feel the tendrils of love. Tighter and tighter they wrap, crushing me down into nothing. I have never known joy before this.
I have been swept in by the most beautiful wave, a wave called Love.
-Rumi, The Complete Idiot's Guide to Rumi Meditations (Complete Idiot's Guide to)
I have been swept in by the most beautiful wave, a wave called Love.
-Rumi, The Complete Idiot's Guide to Rumi Meditations (Complete Idiot's Guide to)
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