agpeya.

do you remember your birthright as a wild creature of the limitless world?
greet each whistling prayer of the wind as an oracle of the extraordinary.
in your hand lies the birth of a new day.
it is yours to do, make, be.
bless this moment, for it is sacred.




photo star creatures made available for artistic consideration by: simon

word.

What we speak becomes the house we live in.

- Hafiz



photo: thinking outside the box inside the box provided for artistic consideration by sabberworm

even the common, aflame.

Thanksgiving Day Prayer

For the wide sky and the blessed sun,
For the salt sea and the running water,
For the everlasting hills
And the never-resting winds,
For trees and the common grass underfoot.
We thank you for our senses
By which we hear the songs of birds,
And see the splendor of the summer fields,
And taste of the autumn fruits,
And rejoice in the feel of the snow,
And smell the breath of the spring.
Grant us a heart wide open to all this beauty;
And save our souls from being so blind
That we pass unseeing
When even the common thornbush
Is aflame with your glory,
O God our creator,
Who lives and reigns for ever and ever.

- Walter Rauschenbusch (1861–1918)



photo provided for artistic consideration by: ali zeeshan ijaz

thank you, on being: blog for sharing this prayer orginally

truth is too simple for words

truth is too simple for words
before thought gets tangled up in nouns and
verbs
there is a wordless sound
a deep breathless sigh
of overwhelming relief
to find the end of fiction
in this ordinary
yet extraordinary moment
when words are recognized
as words
and truth is recognized
as everything else

-nirmala

all of it falls.

The November Angels

Late dazzle
of yellow
flooding
the simplified woods,
spare chipping away
of the afternoon-stone
by a small brown finch —
there is little
for them to do,
and so their gossip is
idle, modest:
low-growing,
tiny-white-flowered.


Below,
the Earth-pelt
dapples and flows
with slow bees
that spin
the thick, deep jute
of the gold time’s going,
the pollen’s
traceless retreat;
kingfishers
enter their kingdom,
their blue crowns on fire,
and feast on
the still-wealthy world.


A single, cold blossom
tumbles, fledged
from the sky’s white branch.
And the angels
look on,
observing what falls:
all of it falls.


Their hands hold
no blessings,
no word
for those who walk
in the tall black pines,
who do not
feel themselves falling —
the ones who believe
the loved companion
will hold them forever,
the ones who cross through
alone and ask for no sign.


The afternoon
lengthens, steepens,
flares out—
no matter for them.
It is assenting
that makes them angels,
neither increased
nor decreased
by the clamorous heart:
their only work
to shine back,
however the passing brightness
hurts their eyes.

- Jane Hirshfield


photo made available for artistic consideration by: rob lee

devenue

God turns you from one feeling to another
and teaches you by means of opposites so that
you will have two wings to fly, not one.


- Jalaluddin Rumi


photo made available for artistic consideration by: laurent

surprise

Life is just the perpetual surprise that I exist.

- rabindranath tagore





photo is makayla taken by kyle may